The Ring
by atruwriter
Summary: Supernatural:Smallville CROSSOVER... You know you love it! Sam wonders why Dean holds the ring on his right hand in so much regard. When asked, Dean gives an answer that completely shocks his little brother.
1. What?

**Rating**: _T_  
**Warning**: _Mild scenes of a sexual nature_  
**Genre**: _Romance/Drama/Action/Adventure  
_**Pairing**: _Dean/Read to find out, Sam/OC_  
**Summary**: _Sam wonders why Dean holds the ring on his right hand in so much regard; when asked, Dean gives an answer that completely shocks his little brother._

_**The Ring**_

_**-1-**_

Sam really didn't peg his brother for a jewelry type of guy, so when they were speeding down the highway, having just left one of their hunts completed, feeling battered, bruised, and terribly tired, he was more than surprised to hear Dean shout that they had to go back for his ring. Being the one behind the steering wheel, Sam shook his head and glared at the guy beside him. "No way," he said, snorting. "We just spent eighteen hours on the run, chasing down one very pissed off werewolf, and you want me to turn around to go search for some tiny piece of metal? No," he said, adamantly. "I'm not doing it. You probably dropped it in the dirt in the very beginning of the hunt, and we'll never find it."

"You don't understand," Dean said, his hands frantically moving around his jeans, checking pockets and feeling around to see if maybe it had slipped off recently. Taking off his seatbelt, he leaned into the back, looking around on the seat and the floor. "It's not here, we have to go back."

"Do you have any idea what kind of odds there are on us finding that ring?" he asked, shaking his head with wide-eyes. "There's no way, Dean. It's four in the morning, pitch black outside, and you don't know when exactly you lost it."

"I don't care," he said, angrily. "I'll search every inch of the woods while you sleep in the car, just take me back!" he half-shouted.

Sighing, Sam stewed with annoyance before turning the car around and heading to the destination they had left an hour prior. "I hate you for these things, you know." Shaking his head, he pressed his foot a little more on the accelerator. "We can't just go back and get some sleep, there's always got to be something else."

Dean didn't reply, instead he kept searching the car with blind hope. He had checked his pockets fifteen times by the time Sam pulled up where they had parked last time. As soon as the car stopped, Dean leapt out, using the overhead light to check the car over once more. Grunting, he began looking around on the ground in front of the car, using the headlights for his quest. When he had ventured too far from the light to see anything, he ran back for a flashlight. Laying out in the back seat, Sam closed his eyes to try and get some sleep, it didn't take long before the rustling and swearing of his worried brother drifted away from his ears, while the not-so-sweet dreams began to plague him.

Waking up, startled at the nightmare he had witnessed, Sam's eyes were wide as he looked all around him to find that he was still laying in the car, his legs dangling out the open door. The woods surrounded him, light peeking through the trees enough to make things visible but not enough to warm the air. Sitting up, Sam pulled himself out of the car and stretched, making a loud grunting noise. Closing the car door, his eyes scanned the area surrounding him. Checking his watch, he found that it was a little after one. "Dean?" he shouted, cupping a hand around the side of his mouth to make himself louder. "Dean? You out there?" he yelled.

Feeling incredibly bad about the situation, Sam pulled his jacket on, locked the doors to the car, grabbed a gun from the trunk, and began walking through the woods, looking for his brother. He had learned long ago, that fear was really only helping whatever you were scared of. So the creepy woods, though filled with eery noises, gnarled trees, and the odd glowing pair of eyes, wasn't really worrying him. It was that as he moved through the woods, shouting for his brother, he continued to receive no response. All this for a ring; a stupid, silver piece of junk. What was so great about a dumb piece of jewelry?

Lifting his arm, a long trek later, he found it was going on three in the afternoon. "Dean?" he screamed again, his eyes scanning the area around him. After finding a werewolf living in the woods, he was suddenly starting to wonder what else might be around, or if perhaps it hadn't been alone. Dean wouldn't have been prepared to take on a werewolf all on his own, especially without any weapons. Running his hands through his hair in frustration, Sam growled with anger. "Stupid Dean," he muttered. "And his stupid ring," he grunted, kicking the ground.

Walking farther into the woods, Sam tried his best to take the route that they had been taking while on their hunt the night before. It was rather hard as they had been running and not really paying all that much attention to what was happening around him. He felt pretty good about it however, when he happened upon their makeshift trap. Leaning over the broken leaves atop it, he peered down to see the dead lycanthrope lying on the ground, a silver bullet in its heart. Making his way around the trap, Sam called out for his brother again, without response. Crossing his arms, he shook his head and continued on past the clearing and deeper into the woods.

After four hours of searching, Sam almost gave up, until he heard a rustling in the distance. Taking off running, he completely forgot that it might've been an animal. He was pleasantly surprised to find his brother, not a blood thirsty werewolf or any other creature that might inhabit the cold forest. "What the hell, man?" he asked, shaking his head.

Dean looked up at him from down on his knees, his hands were spread out over the dirt, searching and feeling for his lost ring. Ignoring him, he continued on searching, his face close to the light brown ground, eyes running over it with serious concentration.

"It's taken me four hours to get here, you've been out here for over eleven," Sam told him, kneeling down beside him.

Dean pushed him over, "I haven't searched there yet," he said, pointing to the spot his feet had been.

"Seriously, what is your problem?" Sam wondered, dusting himself up and walking over to another spot. "Have you checked here?" he asked, sarcastically.

Instead of noticing the way his brother was mocking him, Dean simply nodded and returning to his search. Moving himself over, he began checking the ground where Sam had been, his hand carefully sifting the dirt while his eyes took in a large area, calculatingly.

"It's a ring," Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. "What's the big deal?" Sighing, he brought himself down to eye-level with Dean. "Did it have some magical means?"

Dean shook his head, his eyes never leaving the ground.

"Was it a protection band?" Sam wondered, shaking his head with question. "Had it been blessed to keep you safe?"

"No," Dean replied, gruffly. "It has nothing to do with our line of work," he replied.

"So you wear it for fashion purposes?" he asked, snorting. "I knew you could be narcissistic, but seriously Dean, you can find another ring."

"Shut-up," Dean said, but without his usual edge. "It has nothing to do with appearance," he replied. Brushing over a patch of grass, his hands checked through it, feeling around frantically. Finally, his hands stilled and his eyes widened. Scrambling over quickly, he pulled something up, blowing the dirt off before he sighed. His eyes closed while his shoulders sagged with relief.

Slipping the ring on his finger, he opened his hazel eyes, their usual gleam of mischief coming back to them. Brushing his legs off, he stood up straight and stared down at his brother. "Come on Sammy, we don't have all day. Not all of us have a good night's rest," Dean bugged, walking into the woods.

Cocking his eyebrow, Sam stood up, following him out. Hurrying over to walk beside him, Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets glancing down at the ring on Dean's finger. His brother unconsciously kept running his thumb over his prized piece of jewelry, while his eyes glanced down on occasion, as if checking to make sure it was still there.

"Well?" Sam asked, looking from his hand to his face.

"Well what?" Dean asked gruffly, avoiding the inevitable question.

"You spent like twelve hours out here," he reminded, shaking his head with wide-eyes. "For one little ring," he continued, his voice raising. "You can't tell me that something isn't up with that," he said, crossing his arms. "It's a ring, without magical purposes, without protection charms. And, it doesn't add anything to your supposed good looks. So what possible significance can it hold?" he wondered, staring at him seriously.

"It doesn't matter," Dean said, picking up his pace. "Could you have parked farther away?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

The rest of the walk back to the car was made in complete silence, when the woods began to darken, Dean took out his flashlight to help them through. He refused to admit anything to Sam, which left him to walk with annoying questions milling around in his head, begging to be answered. By the time they made it back to the Impala, the entire day had been wasted.

"What time is it?" Dean wondered, walking to the passenger side door and rubbing his eyes.

Checking his watch, Sam unlocked his door. "Seven thirty," he told him, popping the lock for Dean to get in. Backing out of the woods, Sam drove them back onto the road and toward the town the motel they had rented was in.

Crossing his arms over his seatbelt, Dean leaned his head back on the rest, staring out the window with half-closed eyes. Turning his chin down, he looked down at the ring, using his thumb to turn it around on his finger. "I've had it for three years," he admitted, quietly. "I've only taken it off once," he said, shaking his head."And that was just to transfer it to this hand," he said, motioning with his right hand, the ring catching the gleam off of a highway light.

"Where'd you get it?" Sam wondered, glancing at it before returning his eyes to the road.

"Chloe gave it to me," he told him, his voice soft.

"Who's she?" Sam wondered, surprised that Dean not only kept something from a woman close, but that her name was remembered.

Dropping his hand, Dean closed his eyes and cleared his throat before making himself comfortable. "My wife," he replied, before letting himself fall into a deep slumber.

Turning his shocked, wide face to his brother, Sam stared at him with huge eyes and a dropped mouth. He was too surprised to form words, too confused to shake him awake and question his last statement. Returning his eyes to the road before he drove them into a ditch, Sam tried to collect himself enough to drive the rest of the way to the hotel.

As he drove the two hours to the small town, Sam's mind became clouded with questions. He didn't know how he was going to ask his brother any of it, or if Dean would even reply. He felt rather betrayed though, at not knowing something so very personal about his own brother. Pulling into the driveway of the Sleep-E-Z Motel, he turned and stared at the sleeping form of his brother, once again the questions flew in front of his eyes.

Wife? When did Dean get married? Why wasn't he invited? Why didn't he know about it? Why was the ring on his left hand instead of his right? What did his wife think about Dean's extra curricular activities while on the road? Why was he with other women if he had a wife? Why hadn't he met this Chloe woman? What else didn't he know about his older brother? What was the whole story?

Reaching out, Sam shook his awake. "We're here," he notified him.

Making a grunting noise, Dean took a moment before extracting himself from the car, locking the door, and walking towards the Motel room. Sam unlocked the door, letting them in. He opened his mouth to ask all of his questions, but Dean held up a silencing hand as he crawled into the stuffed bed awaiting him. "Maybe another day, Sammy boy," he said, shaking his head.

"But-"

"No," Dean cut him off, closing his eyes and pulling the pillow under his head tighter. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, stiffly.

"You can't just tell me you have a wife and then never explain things," Sam said, sitting down on the edge of his bed and staring at his brother with confusion. Sighing, he made a few sputtering noises before managing a real sentence. "So you have a wife, her name is Chloe," he said, nodding. "You've been married three years," he deducted, since that was how long he'd had the ring. "Where is she? Why aren't you with her? Does she know you're on the road?" he asked, bombarding him with questions. Gulping, he bit his lip before asking another more personal question. "Does dad know?" If the answer was yes, Sam was fairly sure he'd be hurt; their father knew about Dean's marriage, but his own little brother didn't.

Rolling onto his back, Dean stared at the roof and ran his hands over his face. "Dad walked her down the aisle," Dean told him, nodding. "Her dad passed away the year before, and she was really close with our dad. So he offered and she accepted," he explained, easily.

"Why- Why didn't I know?" he asked, lifting his hurt eyes to him.

"You remember all those letters I sent you?" he asked, turning over to look at him. "All those times I wrote you, asking you to come visit or talk to dad. The ones you stopped reading after awhile," he reminded.

Sam nodded, shortly.

"One of those held a wedding invitation," he said, staring at him. "For Wednesday, July 16th, 2003," he said, as if reading the invitation out loud to him."We formally invite you, and one guest, to join Dean J. Winchester and Chloe M. Sullivan for their blessed day. 1423 Meteor Avenue, Smallville, Kansas. Please contact Dean or Chloe on their home phone, at 369-9853, to RSVP. We hope you can join in the very special occasion, as it will surely bind two people for a life full of love and adventure. Formal dress, presents accepted but not required. Wedding starts at noon, reception to follow at two. Hope to see you there. Sincerely, the future Mr. and Mrs. Winchester."

Staring at him, Sam felt a pang of regret. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I just assumed it was like all the rest, where you tell me that dad's sorry, but not going to say it to my face. Where you beg me to come back, make up with him, and act as if everything's normal."

"Yeah well," Dean said, shrugging and rolling back onto his back.

"Was it nice?" Sam wondered. "The wedding I mean."

Swallowing, Dean nodded. "There was about a hundred guests, friends and family," he told him, clearing his throat. "It was held in the backyard of our house; our friend Clark made this really great archway for us, to go behind the minister," he said, lifting a hand and rubbing it against his forehead. "Miss. Kent made all the food for the reception, she's an incredible cook," he said, smiling. "I actually wore a tux," he told him, grinning when he turned his head back over to look at him. "I hate monkey suits, but I looked pretty good."

Sam nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It was a beautiful day too, really sunny, no clouds in the sky. It was summer, so it was pretty hot out. Lois had set up fans though, so that everybody was cooled down enough not to pass out," he continued, a look of happiness crossing his face as he shared the memory. "There were lots of flowers around, all sorts of colours; Chloe loves flowers," he said, nodding. His eyes turned up to the corner as he thought back. "She looked stunning, with this beautiful white strapless dress, wrapped around her. She had a small bouquet of flowers in her hands, with this white sash matching her dress hanging down from them. She was crying when she met me at the front, so I pushed her veil off and kissed her early," he admitted, with a small chuckle. "She had her hair pinned up in the back with these little pearls through it."

Sitting up, Dean pulled his wallet out of his jeans, digging a picture out of it. Passing it over to Sam, he watched as his brother stared at it, wide eyed with a smile. Three years had passed, but Dean didn't look all that different. Chloe, with her soft blonde hair pinned up from the wedding, had changed into a simple white sun dress for the reception. Dean was still wearing his tuxedo pants and dress shirt, untucked, but his jacket had been placed on the back of a chair somewhere. A congratulatory cigar hung out of his grinning mouth as he held a bunch of cards up, playing poker with his friends. Chloe sat in his lap, a smile on her face as she whispered something in his ear, her green eyes sparkled with mischief. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, a silver ring on her left hand; her right hand had a gleaming diamond engagement ring on it.

"She's beautiful," he told him, staring at the picture for a long while before looking up at him. "The whole wedding sounds great," Sam said, nodding.

"It was," Dean said, his eyes staring down at the ground. "You should've heard her vows," he said, nodding with a smile. "It took her awhile because she was crying through them. But I knew what she was saying, even if nobody else did," he said, quietly. "She read them again to me later, on our honeymoon," he said, chuckling at the memory.

"So why haven't I ever heard about her?" Sam wondered, shaking his head.

Dean's face dropped, his eyes became hollow and dark as he rolled his head back up to stare at the ceiling. "We're not together anymore," he admitted, sighing. "I left a couple years ago. We didn't get a divorce, but she knows its over," he said, nodding.

"What?" Sam asked, shaking his head. "I don't get it. What happened?"

"She was eight months pregnant," Dean said, softly. "But I could feel it in the air," he said, inhaling sharply. "That same thing that took mom when you were a baby, I felt it back then too," he told him, nodding. "Winchester curse," he reminded, shaking his head. "So I left, taking my curse with me," he breathed, lifting his hand and pressing it against his eyes. "I've checked in, Chloe's fine, so is my little girl," he said, sighing. "I couldn't let it happen to them," he told him, shaking his head. "I couldn't let it take her," he whispered.

"Did you tell her?" Sam wondered, leaning forward on the bed.

Shaking his head, Dean let his hand fall by his side. "No, I just left," he admitted. "I didn't tell dad either. I didn't want him thinking that maybe he could catch it using Chloe as bait," he said, clenching his jaw.

"But Dean," he said, quietly, shaking his head. "You have a wife and a daughter, you can't stay away for ever."

"I've managed it two years now," he said, nodding. "As long as they're okay, everything is fine."

"No it's not," Sam said, scoffing. "_You're_ not okay," he said, lifting his hand and motioning to him. "You've obviously never gotten past it. I mean, you spent twelve hours searching for that ring," he reminded.

"It's over now Sammy," Dean said, rolling over. "You wanted the truth and you got it," he said, reaching out and turning the lamp off. "Now leave it alone."

Shaking his head, Sam stood up, pacing the room. Coming up with a plan in his head, he decided he wasn't about to let his brother ruin his entire life. He didn't know the entire story, he could tell from the way Dean's answers became shorter and to the point. Whatever it took, Sam was going to get them to Smallville, Kansas. Even if he didn't manage to help Dean and Chloe, he was going to see his little niece. Smiling, Sam nodded before he crawled into bed. Tomorrow, he would begin his new plan.

* * *

**A/N**_ I know, I know, I already have a bunch of Smallville/Supernatural stories going. I'm going to work on getting them finished. I've also got two Harry Potter stories, which I'm certainly not abandoning. Those come before this story, but don't worry, I'll still update this. Please review, I'd really like to know what you think of this idea. Thanks._

_-**Amanda**_


	2. History

_**The Ring**_

_**-2-**_

Memories plagued his dreams, haunting him every moment he closed his eyes. Sam had been right, he wasn't okay. He had a real life, a real beginning with Chloe. As much as he loved hunting, there was something about starting a real life with her and having a baby, that was both incredible and scary at the same time. Now, he lived for the scary; he ate, slept, and breathed scary. It was his job to destroy the evil of the world, to save the innocent and keep the world on its axis for one more day, one more year, one more lifetime. But somewhere along the way, all that dedication had given him a moments peace, and during that break, he fell in love.

It wasn't the smartest move, he was willing to admit that; he never said he was a genius, hell he's not Sam. He didn't regret it though, their time together had been the best of his life. They future they were creating, he'd never looked more forward to something before. Smallville had enough problems to keep him busy the rest of his hunting days, so he really didn't worry about getting bored.

The moment he felt it though, the second he felt the prickling on his skin, he knew something was coming; something that would destroy their happiness, his family. Weakness, he'd been taught, was something he had to be very much in control of. Ties to people only made their inevitable death much harder, so it was best not to get close. He held only his father and brother in high regard, keeping them safe and close were priorities in his life. Anyone else was virtually expendable; an odd thought for a hero, but a needed one.

Chloe was different though, she wasn't a damsel in distress or a bimbo out to get lucky on a Friday night. He had run into her while on a hunt; she was looking for a story, he was trying to kill her murderous story as it searched out its prey, murdering without mercy. With a camera hanging from her wrist, ready to go at any time, she popped up out of nowhere, nearly getting herself killed, but executing some intriguing martial arts to get herself out of harms way. If it wasn't enough to find a gorgeous blonde ready to go into danger, strong and equipped to handle it, she happened to have a winning personality too.

After getting rid of the problem at hand, he was surprised to see that she was still hanging around, snapping pictures of the limp creature on the ground. Grinning at him, she stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Chloe Sullivan," she introduced herself. "Trouble making reporter."

Nodding, an inviting grin in place, he took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Dean Winchester, evil being hunter," he stated, simply.

Snapping a picture of him, she smiled. "Care for an interview?" she asked, hopefully.

"Sorry," he told her, shrugging. "Not interested." He couldn't help but eye her over, taking in her smooth curves and utterly perfect face. He was almost blown over by her dazzling green eyes, but managed to keep himself looking uncommitted.

"I didn't think you'd go for it," she said, sighing. "Oh well, I guess I'll have to wait for another handsome hunter that kills- What exactly is this?"

"Handsome huh?" he asked, ignoring her obvious question. "You're quite beautiful, yourself," he told her, his eyes falling to her succulent lips, turning up in a smile.

"Easy tiger, this reporter may go to lengths for stories, but she's not _that_ dedicated," she told him, lifting a brow before sashaying away. "Thanks for your help though," she called back, with a wave of her hand. "These pictures will come in quite handy," she informed him, exiting the barn they had been in.

He didn't see her again for a few days, shortly before he was going to move on to the next town, another hunt. His father had warned him that if he didn't slow down, he was going to burn out. Deciding to take his advice, Dean took a short break in the friendly town of Smallville. Renting a Hotel room, he set himself up for a week or so, hoping there wouldn't be any problems for him to deal with. While sitting in the town's coffee shop, he saw the infamous blonde from his last hunt. She was sitting with a pretty brunette, laughing about whatever while they enjoyed a couple of tall coffee's, nibbling on a bagel.

Dean hadn't realized he was staring until she looked over at him, tossing him an easy grin. A boy straight out of a farmers Almanac crossed over with a teenage girls Cosmo walked in, bending down to peck the pretty girl beside Chloe on the cheek. He smiled over at Chloe, saying something Dean couldn't hear and really didn't care about. Standing up, she smiled at them before waving goodbye. He thought she was simply going to leave, but instead, she picked up her coffee, crossed the shop, and slid in beside him at his booth.

"And here I thought you'd be out saving the rest of the world by now," she told him, cheekily.

Shrugging, Dean leaned back, his hands wrapped tightly around his coffee, absorbing its warmth. "It can wait a little while, I can't be the only man to save humanity," he said, smirking.

"Of course not, if that were the case, you wouldn't have the chance to be sitting here with me, and what a travesty that would pose, hmm?" she asked, quirking her brow.

Grinning, Dean nodded. "I should probably make the best of my break then," he said, leaning forward.

"I should hope so," Chloe said, tapping her chin. "What could you do? What could you do?" she asked, her eyes turning to the side. "In a town like Smallville, bustling with activity," she continued, sarcastically.

"I could ask out a very beautiful, confidant reporter I met recently," he told her, his voice becoming distant as if he weren't really talking to her. "She could be busy though, what with her schedule for chasing after unknown creatures with a nasty habit of killing people. While wearing a skirt and heels, I might add."

Chuckling, Chloe crossed her arms, smiling at him genuinely. "Well, I would definitely do what you suggested," she told him, nodding. "This girl sounds extraordinary; I wouldn't let her go, sounds like she's one of a kind."

And he hadn't let her go, he had asked her out on spot, agreeing to meet her for a movie later. Their relationship had quickly developed, almost as if it were how things were meant to be. When his week was up, he explained the circumstances to his dad, who had taken it better than he thought he would. John had made a special trip over to Smallville to meet the infamous Chloe Sullivan, a talented girl she must be if she managed to capture Dean's heart. The two of them hit it off almost immediately, falling into a comfortable conversation about the many creatures of all kinds that had ransacked the world, corrupting it in their wake.

On their one year anniversary, Dean took her out to the barn they had first met in. Dropping to one knee, he proposed to her right there, surprising himself and her. His life had taken a drastic change when she came into it; Sam had recently left for college, no longer paying attention to what his father had to say. Dean had increasingly shirked his duties outside of Smallville to begin his life with just Chloe. Perhaps that was why John was so upset that Sam was leaving home to do something other than hunt; he'd already lost his eldest son to 'normalcy,' and now he felt it was Sam's right to take Dean's place.

He could still remember how he had asked her, how he had convinced her and himself that they were making the right decision. After twelve months of being solely hers, he had actually found that monogamy had its up sides; like coming home every night, finding her asleep in their bed, wearing one of his favorite shirts, knocked out soundly on her side of the mattress. And without waking her, he'd simply take off the clothes that stifled him and crawl in behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and sleeping comfortably, forgetting the darkness that crept outside their apartment.

He took a job at the local car shop, becoming head mechanic within the first week; after all of his work on his beautiful Impala, he'd learned more than just a few things about cars. He'd do odd jobs on random electronics too; making most of his paranormal equipment had supplied him with a knowledge for all things electrical. Combining his income with hers, from working at The Daily Planet via her laptop as she didn't want to leave meteor freak central, they were able to put enough away by the end of the year to put a down payment on a beautiful little house just outside of town.

Everything was falling into place, without interruption. He had grown a steady circle of friends, with Clark, Lois, Lana and a few others. Though Clark and Lois had been together for a few years, he was still worried about asking her to marry him, as they led a life of mystery and danger most days. That certainly didn't stop Dean though, as he had picked up a beautiful ring in Metropolis a few weeks before asking Chloe to marry him. It wasn't anything too extravagant, as they were just getting their finances together for the house, but it wasn't worthless either. He had put away a little each check, not enough to mess with their plans or ever growing food bill, but enough for him to buy a beautiful ring for her finger.

When he dropped by to see her at The Talon for a quick lunch before returning to work, he told her that he wanted to visit the barn before they left for the restaurant they had reserved in town. She had agreed, though she was perplexed, and he left her with numerous questions just begging to be answered. After work, he had searched through his clothes, looking for the exact pair of jeans he'd been wearing when he met her, along with the deep blue t-shirt he had on over his long sleeved black shirt. When he arrived, she was fully decked out in a beautiful black dress, one end reached her mid-thigh, while the other side dipped down to just past her knee in a wave fashion. The v-neck dropped low across her chest, but tastefully so, while the straps wrapped around her neck, tying and then dangling down her smooth back.

She was turned around when he arrived, her back to him as she stared up out the hole in the roof, the moon filtering in with hazy yellow beams. Approaching her quietly, careful not to let know he was there, he pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder before wrapping his arms around her waist. Loosening his grip so she could turn around to see him, he made his move swiftly. "I had this all planned out," he told her, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. "I even wrote this speech in my head as to what I was going to say, 'cause I really wanted it to be perfect."

Opening her mouth, she was likely about to question what he was talking about, but stopped when he kneeled down before her, taking her delicate hand in his.

"I probably should've written this down and memorized it," he said, quietly. "But I'm sure the words would've left me as soon as I saw you anyway." Shaking his head, he stared up into her eyes, vaguely noticing that the straw on the ground was poking his knee painfully. "I've never known anyone like you," he started, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "I've never tried what we're trying," he admitted, inhaling deeply. "My life has been one long string of fighting and meaningless one night stands. But with you, none of that matters. I would give up hunting completely, if it meant making you happy for the rest of your life," he said, sincerely. "But the really incredible thing, is that you would never ask me to do that." Shaking his head, he smiled up at her appreciatively. "Because no matter what the case, or twisted situation, you always get me. You always know what I'm going to say or do. It's one of many reasons that I love you." Grinning up at her, he sighed, happily. "There is nobody else that could ever mean more to me than you do. I don't care what my future holds -if it's filled with hunting or fighting with you over the last bagel, then fine- I just want you to be part of it."

Staring down at him, her green eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, of what emotion, he hadn't been sure.

"Marry me, Chloe," he asked her, smiling. "Marry me and we'll raise little blonde, hazel eyed kids who enjoy kicking the crap out of everything bad. We'll live in our white house, with its blue shudders, and red picket fence. We'll get the dog and the van, even though I won't drive it. We'll do whatever married couples and families do; as long as you're my wife, I'll do anything." Shaking his head, he lifted a brow. "Hurry up and make a decision though, because this sappy side of me only comes out like once a year, if you're lucky."

Laughing, Chloe nodded, grinning a saccharine smile. "Of course I'll marry you," she said, her voice slick with happiness. "I wouldn't raise my butt kicking children with anyone else," she told him, smirking.

Standing up, Dean pulled the ring out of his pocket, slipping it on her finger. Being the happiest man on the face of the Earth was a new feeling, he was used to feeling the ultimate high of love in her presence, but that it would never end, was like telling him the world had found lasting peace; that he wasn't going to have to hunt ever again. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he twirled her around in the air, kissing her deeply, while smiling at her excited laughter. All throughout dinner later that night, she stare at her ring with a satisfied grin before sending him the most adoring look she could possibly muster.

The next couple months were spent preparing for the wedding, going over all the little details and figuring out who they wanted and who were definitely not getting invitations. It had been important to him that his brother was there, so he was sadly disappointed when Sam never RSVP'd. Instead, he had Clark as his best man, a fitting title given the man of steel had easily become his best friend. Chloe had asked Lois to be her maid of honor, and Lana with another girl that Dean still hadn't managed to catch the name of were her bride's maids. John gladly accepted the coveted position as the man who walked the bride up to her soon-to-be husband.

It seemed like life was hitting perfection without any sign of coming down; Dean had managed the impossible, life after hunting. He had settled down in one town, married the woman of his dreams, made the best friends a guy could ask for, and still managed to keep up an interesting lifestyle. After an incredible honeymoon in Hawaii, courtesy of his dad, though they never asked where he got the money, they came home to their completely set up house. It wasn't a week later before Chloe found out she was pregnant, and he was almost surprised to find that it was an incredible feeling to know he would be a father. He had always wondered about his stability as a parent; would he be good enough? But with the reality of it staring him in the face, he was almost certain he would be a great dad.

Life had gone on without delay, there had been no overwhelming problems in Smallville, which was slightly worrisome in Dean's books. It wasn't until her seventh month that he started feeling it, the sensation over his back, his arms, and especially over his neck. Like a warning sensation, a slight reminder that he hadn't been forgotten; that his curse was still standing strong, just waiting for the right moment. Dean started keeping an extra eye on Chloe, never really leaving her alone for too long. He became worried that something would happen to her and the baby if he didn't do something.

Instead of calling his dad, or telling Chloe, he absorbed himself in tons of books, trying to find a way around what was happening. He researched curses, family legacies ending in tragedy, and any way he might be able to stop the creature that stalked his family. In the end, there was only one solution; leaving completely. If he weren't a part of the family, then whatever wanted to make him suffer, would give up on Chloe and his soon to be born little girl; Sasha Mary Winchester. All he could think of was preserving their lives, their safety. So the night he left, he cuddled with Chloe, whispering against her stomach as she slept; telling his little girl that her daddy would always love her. Placing a kiss on Chloe's forehead, he left before the tears burning his eyes got the best of him.

Driving in his Impala, he watched the perfection of his life melt away; he watched the white house with the blue shudders shrink until it was no longer there. He drove as far as he could get, deciding that the more distance between them, the more likely they would stay safe. He called his father, leaving a message that they needed to talk; they met a few towns from where he had finally ended up when he couldn't stay awake any longer. He didn't tell him anything about the creature that had slipped into his and Chloe's lives, knowing that it was his mother's killer and wanting his father to stay as far from Chloe as possible. He couldn't handle the thought of her going through the same thing his mother had; pinned to the ceiling in a rolling fire as their little girl cried in her crib, confused and scared.

His father had been confused, filled with a lot of loaded questions, ones that revolved around the fact that Dean had a little girl on the way and a wife that loved him. Cutting him off from any kind of fatherly speech that might be on its way out of John's mouth, Dean told him to just drop it. He told him that he had to stay away from Chloe and Sasha also, that it was for the best if he never associated with them at all, no questions asked. Forfeiting, Dean's father let in and stepped away from the woman who had grown close to him as a daughter-in-law, giving up his title of grandpa to Sasha in the process.

It took Dean two years to get to the point where he wasn't constantly worried about them every waking moment; he only kept in touch with Clark, the one person who really knew why he had left. Clark gave him updates on Sasha and Chloe, letting him know that they were still okay, that they were alive and well. Though there was a long time when Chloe had been going through a very rough period, after he had left, Dean had to be strong and not return to her. There were so many days that he wanted to call, or at least send a letter, but he couldn't put them in danger again; he wouldn't let his weakness for her cause her death.

It was true that he hadn't been completely faithful to her, the first time he had strayed happened a year after he left, when Clark informed him that Chloe had gone on a date. Though it was a disaster and Chloe only did it because Lana set her up on it, Dean had completely gone berserk. Hitting on the first girl to cross his path, he broke his vows to his wife and went back to his old ways. After awhile, it wasn't about Chloe, it was about staving the pain that had crept into every crevice of his mind, his being. He couldn't get past the fact that he had a beautiful wife sitting back at their house, raising his baby girl on her own. He couldn't forgive himself for leaving his perfect life, for giving up his dreams with her, to go back to being Dean the single hunter.

After he cheated on her, he transferred his wedding band to his other hand, it wasn't that he didn't still consider himself all Chloe's, but he felt a sense of guilt at having been with another woman; many woman in the future. He always kept his marriage to her close to him though, cherishing it as the most important part of him; even if he couldn't make it known, couldn't live his life with her any longer. She was as much his wife as she had always been, and though she didn't know it, his heart was still completely hers.

He would give anything to have another chance with her, to kill the thing that haunted them. He would beg for her forgiveness, no matter how long it took, no matter what it entailed. And even if Chloe never took him back again, then he'd give his life just to have five minutes with his daughter. Part of him yearned for everything around him to be over, to destroy all that comes in his past to find that there was nothing else left. He wanted the hunting to stop, for the world to stop needing him so he could finally rest. Though Sammy was adamant that they needed to help their father destroy the being that killed his mother and Jess, Dean wasn't so sure they should. He didn't want the creature to know that he still loved Chloe, just in case they weren't able to kill it and it managed to get back to her.

He wanted it dead, he wanted it to burn in its own flames, screaming for mercy and begging for some kind of forgiveness. But Dean couldn't risk Chloe's life; not after all he'd done to keep her safe. He wouldn't put her in a predicament that could even remotely harm her. It was time he resolved himself to the fact that the life he had wanted back so badly was out of his reach now. He couldn't go back, he couldn't explain himself to her.

As much as he liked to believe that he had a wife and a daughter, he didn't. He was the guy who had ditched his marriage and his very pregnant wife. The guy who had run out on his own daughter before she was even born, let alone the fact that he wasn't there for her now. He wasn't a complete dead-beat dad though; every month we put a thousand dollars into his and Chloe's joint account. It wasn't honest money, as he and his father currently had a credit card scam going, but in the end, all that mattered was that she and Sasha were taken care of.

When it came down to it, Dean was adamant on never returning to Smallville. There were far too many people there with questions, and the two females who meant the most to him in the world would have no forgiveness for him. He couldn't face Chloe with that look in her eye; of hurt, desperation, and complete hatred. He would never subject himself to seeing her look at him as if he was the worst being in the world; he relied on the love he could see gleaming off her beautiful green eyes; eyes of the past, of the days when he had perfection.

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_**A/N **Hope you enjoyed this! I'll update again soon, getting more into what Sam thinks of the whole thing, and begins his interesting scheme to change his brother's life. Thanks for reading, please review!_

_**-Amanda**_


	3. Connections

_**The Ring**_

-_**3**_-

_Dean was lying on the cool crisp white sheets of a bamboo framed bed, his head was propped up on a thick, soft pillow. A smile had pulled his mouth up for so long he briefly wondered if it would ever leave him. A cool, salty breeze came through the open window, making the sheer curtains dance. Sunbeams played over the hard wood floors, telling of the hot day ahead. Dean was comfortably hidden from the heat though, as the bed was no where near the light, sitting peacefully in the dark, shadowed area of the bungalo._

_His arms were tucked behind his head, as he simply soaked up all that was happening around him. The morning was dawning on him, but he could care less what hour it was. He already knew what the day entailed, all that it had for the last two days; complete bliss. His eyes were only half open, lazily blinking at his surroundings. Her arm was strewn over his stomach, he knew she was awake now as her fingers were slowly dancing over his side, almost tickling him but more of making him grin contentedly. _

_Moving closer to him, she rested her head on his chest, near his shoulder; her hair was in a disarray but he rather liked the look. It wasn't likely she'd be brushing it any time soon, it'd be a waste of time. Tipping his head down, he kissed the top of her hair, sighing. She was wearing one of his favorite shirts, only half buttoned, the fabric rather wrinkled. Sitting up, she moved her leg over so she was in his lap. Smiling at him, she laced her hands with his and leaned over him to stare into his eyes. "Do you remember my vows?" she asked, a small smile pulling at her lips._

_Nodding, he stared back at her, loving the way the green of her eyes always seemed brighter in the mornings, perhaps more so since they had married._

_"In full detail?" she asked, her eyes running over his face._

_He nodded again, he could repeat them to her if she asked. He didn't have a photographic memory for anything except her; when it concerned Chloe, it was engraved in his mind permanently. And the words she had spoken, though muffled with tears, were words he never wanted to forget. "Tell me again anyway," he asked, letting go of one of her hands to stroke her face, tugging on a soft blonde strand._

_Smiling, her eyes fell to his stomach, slowly making their way up to his face. "You know I meant every word, right?" she asked, softly; staring into his eyes._

_"Every single one," he said, grinning._

_Smiling in her usual way, she tipped her head. "Well," she said, her voice back to normal now. "Since I'm a writer, obviously I had to write the best vows known to man," she said, smirking._

_Chuckling, he nodded. "And of course, how could you unless they applied to me," he said, his mouth lifting with a grin._

_"Right," she agreed, nodding. "So, I sat down one very warm Saturday morning, while you slept peacefully in our bed, one arm tossed over your head," she told him, her eyes staring off wistfully. "With my pen in my mouth and a pad of paper in my hands," she continued, sighing. "And the words came to me like none have before, which is saying something because my writing deserves awards."_

_"Award worthy it is," he agreed, his hands now resting on her hips, beneath the shirt, his thumbs brushing her warm skin._

_Now her eyes fell back down to is, green meeting hazel in a flurry of more love than anyone could truly picture, or capture with written word. As Dean was completely sure that of everyone who ever lived, or loved, there were no two people like him and Chloe. "Because I was so overwhelmed at our lovely wedding, and nobody else understood a word I was saying, I will now grace you with another verbal assault of your ears detailing exactly what I said," she told him, smiling._

_He would gladly listen to her repeat it to him over and over for the rest of his life. The words that she had so gracefully put together could put poets and philosophers to shame. Though nobody could understand their full worth for him, as they were about their love together, their life as two people bound together for eternity. Nobody who read or heard the words would ever see their worth like he could, like she could._

_"Dean, my lover, my friend, my hunter, my hero- in these days that come, these days that passed, there is no other that could ever mean more than you. When the world is cold and life is full of turmoil, you are my fighter through the darkness. When no one else can see the things we have, know the knowledge we have gained, we can rely on each other in times of understandment. When the days grow old and the nights are shortened, I can thank whoever brought me to you, for a life with you is better than any other I could ask for. And all I ask in return for a marriage of loyalty, love, and complete honesty, is that you return the same, as I'm sure you will. I am forever yours, no matter the date or situation; whatever brought us together will last a lifetime. I'll love you now, tomorrow, and even on those days when you refuse to let me have a fourth cup of coffee. You are mine and I am yours; I can fully promise that will never change. My hero, my hunter, my friend, my lover, my husband - Dean."_

_Sitting up, he wrapped his hand around her cheek, bringing her face close to his. Capturing her lips with his, he wrapped his free arm around her waist. Their tongues were tangled in a passionate display of what they were content to feel for each for all their lives. So many would doubt that he could be a husband, but the evidence lay solely with her. He couldn't be a husband to anyone but Chloe; he couldn't be a boyfriend or a fiancé to anyone but her. She was the one who fit in his arms like a missing puzzle piece. She was the one whose mouth belonged on his to complete perfection. She was the one who made his heart jump, with the thrill of a hunt and the warmth of love's embrace. _

_Leaning her back, his hands deftly popped the buttons on her shirt, pushing it off of her to reveal her smooth creamy skin. Detaching his mouth from hers, he moved down her neck, over her chest and paying attention to her flat stomach. Nipping around her belly button and smoothing his hands up her sides. She was so soft, so sweet to taste, that he never wanted to let her go, never wanted to leave the bed. He just wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her forever._

_"I don't want this to end," she breathed, her hands running through his hair. "Promise me this will last forever, that we'll last forever," she asked, though she didn't sound worried that he would ever disappear. "Promise me you'll love me, always."_

_Rising from his delightful position with his mouth on her tummy, he brought his mouth to just above her lips. "I'll love you forever, I promise," he said, staring into her eyes. "Nothing could ever change that," he told her, honestly. Brushing his lips over hers, he slipped a hand into her hair, bringing her face closer. "I love you," he murmured into her mouth. "God, I love you," he repeated, his voice so low she likely couldn't hear it._

Dean startled awake, sweat soaking his shirt and his breathing thick. Throwing the blanket off of himself, he sat on the side of the Motel bed, his hands stuck in his hair as his head turned down to the floor. His body wanted sleep but his heart needed to be near her again. Two years and he still hadn't been able to move on, he would never move on. He thought he could at least stave off the physical pain that plagued him with all the women he had used for a night, but it still haunted his every move. His chest ached, his mind was a blur, and his heart was shattered into so many pieces, nothing could put it back together.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, he climbed off the bed and walked to the small table sitting against the far wall. Grabbing the sickly yellow phone, he picked up the receiver and dialed the long distance number. Checking his watch, he realized it would be around eight in the morning there. After three rings, it was finally picked up. "Hello?" came the deep, familiar voice of Dean's best friend.

"Hey Clark," he replied, his voice thick and scratchy.

"Dean," he exclaimed, making him sure that nobody was around at the time. "Man, I haven't heard from you in a couple weeks, I was almost worried."

"Yeah, sorry, I was working on a case; just finished last night," he explained, running a hand over his face, noting he needed to shave. Glancing over at his brother, who seemed fast asleep, he sighed. "How are things?" he wondered.

"Good," Clark replied, his voice steady, giving him no reason to believe otherwise. "Lois is at her check up right now, but she told me awhile ago to tell you hello."

"Yeah, tell her I said hey. How far along is she?" he asked, feeling a sharp jab at his chest.

Clearing his throat, Clark made a noise. "Almost eight months," he said, quietly.

"Yeah," Dean said, his face dropping. "Congratulations, again. I'm really happy you and her finally got it together."

Dean could practically see Clark chuckling and grinning the way he always did when the relationship between him and Lois was brought up. It had taken them awhile, but Clark had finally gathered his courage enough to ask her to marry him. It wasn't long after that she told hm she was pregnant, which bowled him over, but in a good way. It was hard to know that his best friend was going to have the life that Dean had been striving for with Chloe, but he was still happy for him.

"Thanks," Clark said, his tone completely understanding.

Swallowing, Dean took a moment to collect himself. "H-How is she?" he asked, wanting to slap himself for actually stuttering.

"She's... good," Clark replied, slowly.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, not really liking the way he said it.

"There's this guy hanging around lately. I don't think they're dating, I'm not sure," he admitted. "I think she knows I've been talking to you, so now she doesn't exactly confide in me all that much."

"A guy," Dean repeated, feeling his chest constrict. "Really?" he asked, clearing his throat. "Good. No, that's good. I mean, she deserves... to be happy," he said, closing his eyes. "She..." Swallowing again, he nodded while his hand curled into a fist. "I... I..." Sighing, he berated himself for coming off weak.

"I know," Clark said, quietly. "Look, I don't think it's serious. I mean, it's the first guy really since you. So he's probably nothing, just like a test drive. Well, not in a crude way, I mean..." Sighing, Clark seemed to give up for a moment. "It's hard to explain," he said. "I know she still loves you, Dean. I know you still love her. God, I wish things could be different..."

"But they're not," Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "They're not and she deserves to be happy. I really hurt her and she... She and Sasha need a stable guy in their lives," he said, as painful as it was for him. Chuckling with self pity, he let out a sharp breath. "Sasha needs a dad," he admitted. The bottled up emotions got to be too much and he slammed his hand down on the table, a resounding thud went through the room.

"Sasha has a dad, he's just doing his best to keep her safe," Clark told him, being the ever reassuring best friend. "You didn't mean to hurt her, you never wanted to leave them. If I thought you didn't care, would I even talk to you? Scratch that, it's pretty damn obvious you care, you call almost every single week to check up on them," he reminded. "You send money, you've sent a present for Sasha on both her birthdays." Dean had left them unmarked so his daughter wouldn't know, but he was sure that Chloe had figured it out. "You're her dad, Dean, no matter what happens."

"Then I'm a really lousy father," he told him, grimacing.

"It's not your fault," Clark told him, seriously. "If I were in your place, I would leave too. If I thought Lois would be safer without me here, I would get in my truck right now."

"Yeah?" he asked, already knowing the answer. This happened quite often, Dean needing to know that he hadn't done something wrong. Seeing as Clark was the only one who knew about what had happened, he was the only one who could tell him he was right in his decision.

"Yeah," Clark replied, honestly. "Oh, hold on." There was noise in the background before a shuffling off the phone.

"Is that who I think it is?" asked a faint female voice.

"Depends on who you think it is," Clark replied.

"I think it's who I think it is, and if it is, then I think you should tell me before I go all pregnant and hormonal on you," she warned.

Dean felt his head spin at her odd way of putting it, but he knew what she meant weirdly enough.

"It's Dean," he replied immediately.

"That's who I thought it was," she said, happily.

"How is he?" she wondered, her voice rather worried.

"He's... fine..." Clark replied.

"Oh no, you didn't tell him about that guy Chloe may or may not be seeing, did you?" Lois wondered, with a stomp of her foot.

"He deserves to know," Clark told her.

Sighing, Lois made an annoyed noise. "You're only hurting him. That buffoon hanging around has nothing on him. God, he could tap dance on the moon and he'd have nothing on Dean," she told him. "I mean, have you seen him? Blonde hair, blue eyes, thin and wiry? Then look at Dean, with his strong body and his handsome face," she told him, sighing. "Chloe had the cream of the crop, she is not settling for that beach boy wannabe!' she exclaimed.

"Settle down, you're starting to scare me. You kind of sound like you have a crush on him too. I'm hurt Lo, terribly hurt by your feelings for my best friend."

"Shut up," she replied, and Dean knew she was rolling her eyes. "I'm just saying there is no reason to worry him. This guy who's been around lately is so not going to become a permanent fixture. Besides, Sasha hates him!" she reminded, loudly. "I mean HATES him! He tried tickling her yesterday and she started screaming and crying bloody murder. Then when he walked by her later and glanced over, she began crying again and it took an hour to calm her down."

"I still think he should know," Clark said, making a noise. "Okay, I've been ignoring him for like five minutes, can I finish my phone call?"

"Yes," Lois replied, sighing. "And can you get me some ice cream? And a pickle? Oh and some peanut butter and those little orange fish crackers? Please Clark?" she whined.

Sighing, Clark muttered a few things. "Sure," he told her. The phone moved again, making a clicking noise. "Hi, sorry," he said to Dean.

"No problem," Dean said, smiling slightly. "So my little girl hates him?"

"You heard that?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, your abilities to cover a phone are pitiful," he told him.

Laughing, Clark sighed. "Yeah well. And yes she does," he admitted. "Chloe says she doesn't know what it is but every time he gets near her, she just loses it."

"Hmm," Dean said, running his hand over his stubbly jaw. "All right, well I've gotta go. I think Sammy's waking up and I'm sure he knows of some other place we need to go." Clenching his jaw, he glanced over at his brother and then looked away, hoping Sam couldn't hear anything. "Thanks again, Clark. I mean, I know it's gotta be hard telling me about her, when you know she's upset about this."

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "But I know the circumstances aren't ideal. I'll talk to you next week then?"

"Yeah, talk to you then," he said, nodding.

After hanging up, he checked on his brother to make sure he hadn't woken up yet. He was stirring, but he often did that because of his nightmares. Picking the phone back up, he dialed a different number. It rang almost six times before it was finally picked up. "Hello?" her sweet voice reached out to him, tickling his senses.

He swallowed, his mouth opening to say something but nothing coming out. This is how it always was; he'd call but never get the words he wanted desperately to say to come out. Then he'd just sit and listen to her call out again, the ring of her voice confused but still as beautiful as ever. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his chair. He could see her face, see her body language as she called out once more, a frown on her lips.

"Hello?' she asked one last time.

Dean wanted to whisper her name, wanted to tell her it was him and how much he missed her every night before he fell asleep. How he always threw his arm to the left side of the bed, thinking he was putting his arm around her, but finding nothing but empty space. The dull noise of her hanging up struck his ears, like a slap in the face. Dropping the receiver back down, he stared at the phone for a minute; his only connection to her anymore. Lifting his hand, he stared at the ring on his right hand, pulling it off, he moved it over to his left. No more straying to get rid of the pain, he would face it head on now.

Making a yawning noise, his brother alerted him that he was now awake. He threw his legs off the side of the bed, running his hand through his hair and blinking rapidly. Finally he got up and struggled to make his way to the bathroom without tripping, he glanced over at Dean with an odd expression. "You're up," he exclaimed, shocked.

"Looks that way," Dean replied, getting up from the chair and walking to his bag to search out clothes for the day.

"Were you on the phone?" he asked, gesturing to the place he had just left.

"Nope, just felt like sitting in a chair," he replied, sarcastically. His brother was half asleep though so he likely had no idea whether he was being sarcastic or not. "Hurry up, I want to have a shower," he said, gesturing to the bathroom.

An hour later, Dean found himself sitting in a restaurant down the road, sipping a very hot black coffee. The waitress kept sending him a flirtatious smile; her waist length blonde hair was pulled behind her, shimmering from the sun. Bright blue eyes stared out at him, winking or thinning at him with a lustful appearance. Makeup was covering every inch of her face in an attractive manner, like that of so many other women he'd met just like her. She was wearing skin tight jeans and a very revealing top, making every guy in the restaurant eye her over with drooling mouths.

"Hi there sugar," she said, smiling down at Dean invitingly. "What can I getcha t'eat?" she asked, leaning over on the table to eye the menu he was holding.

Frowning, Dean glanced at her before turning his attention back to the menu.

Her hand came out, long blood red nails pointing to one of the many combination breakfast plates. "That one right there's a real hit with men like you," she said, her voice low and seductive.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Mmm," she replied.

"I'm good with coffee," he replied, tossing the menu away and glaring out the window. Clasping his hands together, he brought them up as he placed his elbows on the table. "I don't want my wife worrying about my cholesterol," he told her.

Immediately, the waitress drew back, her eyes on the ring placed on his left hand. Sighing, she turned her attention to Sam, a smile forming.

"Bacon, two eggs, and white toast," Sam told her before she could get any ideas. His eyes were staring at Dean's hand pointedly, before glancing up at his glowering brother. "You switched hands," he said, surprised.

"It fits better on my left hand," he replied, shrugging. "Maybe it won't fall off this time." Clearing his throat, his eyes fell to his coffee before he lifted it to his mouth. Glancing at his brother, he turned his eyes away almost instantly.

"What's up?" Sam wondered, his brow furrowing.

"Nothing," Dean told him, gruffly.

Shrugging, Sam turned his face away. "I know of a place we should head down to," he told him, pouring a cream into his mug of black coffee. "Little town, lots of problems."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked, not entirely interested.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "We'll head down that way after breakfast. I figure we'll be there by dinner time," he said, nodding.

"Fine," his brother said, his eyes outside.

"Great," Sam said, smiling briefly. "There's a couple people there that I really want to meet." Glancing at Dean, he knew he had missed the subtlety of his hint.

By this time tomorrow, he hoped to be knocking on the door of one Chloe Winchester, hoping to see his niece and sister-in-law. Eventually, it would become obvious exactly where they were headed to and Sam was pretty worried about what his brother might do. But time was of the essence, as he had heard Dean talking to his friend on the phone. Apparently Chloe was seeing someone, which was a huge problem for Sam's brother. So, he'd just have to make sure that whoever this guy was, he backed off. After all, Dean was supposed to be with his wife and daughter; that much was obvious.

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**A/N** _Sorry it took awhile to update. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I really liked writing it. Please leave a review! Thank you all!_

-**_Amanda_**


	4. Distance

**Thanks to the following reviewers**: _anon, Halcyon Impulsion, tvmaniac2004, BlackScream16, Veronica, Joise, Ghostwriter, thejehsinator, dustori, WelshChicky, CSLUVSCK_, and _especially_ **_galloping-goose_**.

**_The Ring_**

-**_4_**-

As Sam watched another of the many, "Welcome to..." signs pass him by, he sighed with mild excitement. It wouldn't be long now and he'd be pulling up in front of the house his brother and his wife owned. Even though he'd seen a picture and knew their history, he was more than interested in actually meeting the woman that managed to have such an effect on the usually impenetrable Dean Winchester. She was a beauty, that was evident from the picture; though Dean never really was one for a women who wasn't quite obviously swimming in the attractive pool. This Chloe character sounded different however; given that she was a journalist and apparently rather sarcastic, she didn't sound like his usual type. Perhaps that was exactly why her and Dean hit it off so well; though she held the physical attributes, she was also cunning and intelligent.

Much like Dean himself, if only he'd stop calling Sam 'College-boy', as if he wasn't up there with him in smarts. In reality, Dean was quite intelligent, even if he didn't recognize it himself. To be able to create some of the very intricate gadgets that he had takes a certain amount of brain power, which Dean obviously possessed. He often dumbed himself down though, as if he didn't like letting anyone know just how smart he was. Likely because he enjoyed the element of surprise; if you let the hunted know how cunning you are, they pay too much attention to you. With them believing the hunter is incapable, that then leaves leeway for the hunter to attack with increased accuracy, which just further proves Dean's abilities, both physically as a hunter and intellectually as a human.

Glancing to the side, he found his brother had passed out. Having offered to drive, he was rather surprised that Dean had given up the keys to his precious car. It was a rare occasion that he let it happen, and when it did it was more often because he had been injured or was incredibly tired. Even then though, he usually gave Sam a concerned expression; for the car of course, not his little brother and whatever state he might be in. That wasn't to say Dean wasn't a loving brother, per say, he was just rather good at hiding how he felt. Which became even more obvious lately, given that Sam hadn't realized for an incredible amount of time that not only was his brother married and a father, but that he was in a desperate state to keep his wife and daughter safe.

Earlier that day when they had stopped in at a coffee shop, Sam had ventured off to the internet area to pull up a few things on children at two years old. Given that it had that long, give or take, when Dean had left and Chloe had been eight months pregnant, then Sasha would be twenty three months, or near there. After exploring everything there was, Sam had printed off the pages to take with him for future reference. He didn't exactly know why, but he had an overwhelming need to be an incredible uncle that would always be a part of the little girl's life. Given that even her father wasn't around at the moment, it was a little presumptuous of him, but he just knew that when Dean set eyes on his daughter, he wouldn't be able to run away; which is what he was relying on.

Thinking of all the information he had gone through earlier reminded him of something he had found in Dean's bag. He hadn't meant to snoop, but his brother had a bad habit of not doing up his bag like he was supposed be. Lying inside a pocket was a thick, hardcovered book called, "First Time Father." He had leafed through it quickly as Dean had only been in the store of the gas station picking up a few snacks for the road and Sam was looking for a clean shirt after accidentally spilling his coffee on himself. As he turned the pages however, he found certain parts were highlighted; only important things that needed to be remembered, he assumed. On the very front flap there was a small note from the person who had given him his book:

'_Surprise! I know we agreed to wait a little while, at least a year if I remember correctly. But some things just can't be controlled, especially when you were how you were on our honeymoon. I know you are going to be an incredible dad, Dean. So this book is really just to keep your mind sharp on things to look out for. We've got a great life ahead of us and I can't tell you how happy I am that we'll be sharing it with our little boy or girl. I love you. -Chloe_'

Stuck inside the very center of the book was a picture of Chloe with a very round belly, Sam couldn't begin to guess how many months along she was. She glowed though; as cliched as it sounded to say that about a pregnant woman. She really did radiate an air of beauty and happiness. He could see it in the picture and his heart couldn't help but ache for his long lost Jess. Chloe was grinning excitedly, her eyes sparkling with a sense of mischief that he'd only ever recognized in his brother's eyes. Dean was kneeling in front of her, his face directed at her stomach, where his hands sat on either side. All in all it was a warming picture, seeing his brother so unbelievably affectionate and looking like a true husband and soon-to-be dad.

Unfortunately, he had been distracted by the picture and hadn't realized Dean was done until it was too late. The book was ripped out of his hands and Sam turned to find Dean with an expression that would chase any bad ass demon right back to whatever hell it came from. "Look Sam," that right there saved him, as Dean often used the obnoxious 'Sammy' when he spoke to him, "I get that we're hunters and our jobs involve a lot of detective work. I get that you're curious and want to know more about my life, including my wife and daughter. But whatever you have running around in that smart little brain of yours, end it!" he growled at him, angrily. "This," he said, holding up the book, "is my life." Snatching the picture from Sam's hand, he placed it back inside the book. "And it's a part I don't want you messing around with." Without another word, he pressed the book into his bag, slammed the trunk shut, and walked around to sit in the passenger seat.

Now Sam is used to fighting; with his dad, evil creatures, and on occasion his brother, but in all honesty, he was a little scared of Dean in that moment. So as he drove toward the destination of his sister-in-law and niece, he was becoming a bit more agitated every time he passed the welcoming signs to different cities or towns. Looking over at his brother, he knew for a fact that Dean was going to be royally pissed at him when he found out Sam had orchestrated the whole thing. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if he never left Smallville again, because he was buried in their local cemetery.

Dean was protective of a lot of things; his weapons, his car, his privacy, his father and brother. But more than all of that, he seemed to be almost obsessively fearful of the lives of his daughter and wife. Sam understood, from the phone call that morning, that Dean had been calling on a weekly basis, checking up on them. He also knew that his brother was sending some money their way each month, which is saying a lot since Dean himself lived on very little as it was. And while he was not there physically, he was trying his best to make sure that they were well taken care of; which really says something about him.

Sam had always seen his brother as a ladies man; the guy who wouldn't settle down until he was too old to hunt or continue with frivolous one night stands. Turns out he wasn't that guy, at least not for the period of time involving Chloe. She must've been an incredible woman for Dean to have given up the life he had been leading, without interruption, to decide to play house permanently with her. To say that he's still the same old Dean would be a lie; Sam could now visibly see the change that occurred. While he hadn't been there for the period of time when Chloe had been Dean's one and only, he could tell that even after her, he had become rather different from who Sam had known him to be before leaving for college.

While he had just chalked it up to not having seen him in awhile, he could see it in his posture now, hear it in his voice, and notice the difference in his eyes. It was all there; his desperate want to return to that life, his need to keep them safe above all else, even himself. And Sam couldn't help but want to beat himself up for never having realized that his own brother was suffering through something while he hadn't noticed in the least. What kind of brother could he possibly be if he had overlooked something so very vital to Dean's whole being?

Well this was his redemption. It may not have been entirely thought out as he was really kind of tricking Dean into thinking they were just on their way to another hunt. His brother would be furious, maybe even rip him limb from limb. He would yell, he would stew in his own anger, but there was a very slim possibility that one day he might actually understand that Sam was doing this for him. It would hurt; seeing her, asking for forgiveness, and trying to rebuild that life, but Sam wasn't about to let Dean throw it all away. If he was right, if this creature that had killed their mom and Jess was now after Chloe, then Sam would be there to help Dean kill it before it could do any real harm. This was their chance; it may seem like he was doing it solely to have an end to the sadness of his loss when Jess was taken, but in reality, he was doing it more for Dean than himself. He only hoped his brother would see it that way.

"Welcome to Smallville Kansas," a sign read, causing him to grin, both with anticipation and fear. There was no going back now; he was in completely and would just have to take whatever his brother threw at him. He dearly hoped it wasn't his fists though, as they heard like mother...

-------

Dean woke up to a rather familiar scent, one that at first he believed to be a dream but then realized was actually a nightmare come true. Startling awake, Dean stared at the beautifully decorated coffee shop, The Talon sat just in front of his car. For a moment, he felt his heart rise up into his throat and was almost certain that he was going to choke. Walking through the hotspot of Smallville was his friend, possibly former friend, Lana Lang as she spoke to the many customers around her. That's when he noticed someone that vaguely made him sigh with relief. Pushing his car door open, he stuck his head down and pulled up the hood of his sweater to avoid being recognized as he walked inside the coffee shop. There were two people that stood out drastically in his mind; one was his best friend and the other was his soon to be deceased brother.

Upon crossing the floor, he made sure to turn his face away from Lana as she passed him. Hunching his shoulders, he stopped in front of the table his brother was currently sitting in. Sam must've noticed the shadow across the table because he lifted his head; Dean was vaguely happy to see the obvious fear in his brother's face. "Listen to me very clearly," he told him, in a dark voice. "I am going to talk to my friend quickly and then you and I are going to get in the car and leave this town without looking back." Staring at him, he kept his face completely full of the rage he was feeling at that moment. "If you think you're going to stop me somehow, I can guarantee either one of two things will happen to you. One is that I will leave you here to rot and you can figure some way to get your intelligent ass out. Two is that I will stuff you in my trunk and not let you out until I believe I'm far enough away. Do you understand me?"

Sam simply swallowed, staring up at him.

"Five minutes," he told him, before turning away and walking over to the small table that Clark Kent was currently sitting at while he scrawled something out on a few papers. Sliding into a chair with ease, he kept his face down, but monitored his friend for a moment. "Where's the wife, I would've thought she'd have been hovering over you while you work," he said, his voice quiet.

Clark's eyes raised almost immediately, staring at him with both shock and happiness. "What are you doing here?" he asked, a grin pulling at his mouth.

"Long story involving my incredibly stupid brother," he told him, shrugging. "Look, I'm not going to be in town long, cause I've threatened him and we're leaving." Shaking his head, he sighed. "Just thought I'd say something to you before I ditch again."

"I'm glad you did," Clark replied, leaning back in his chair. His eyes surveyed the surrounding area, making sure nobody was going to disturb them. "Isn't it risky for you to be here?"

"I didn't want to come," he told him, his tone angry, but not at his friend. "I just woke up in the car to find I was sitting in the town I promised myself I'd never come back to."

"Your brother's rather sneaky," Clark said, his voice still cheerful even with the heavy situation ahead of them. "Two years is a long time."

Nodding, Dean frowned. "It really is. If I wasn't so tight for time, and rather uncomfortable with male interaction, I might hug you," he said with a laugh.

"I'd know that laugh anywhere," said a feminine voice he couldn't forget if he tried.

Turning slowly, he smiled lazily at Lois Kent, formerly Lane. "Wow," he said, his eyes falling to her stomach. "Lois, you've really let yourself go," he bugged.

Glowering, she smacked his shoulder, but the amusement shone through her eyes. "How've ya been, D?" she asked, sliding in carefully beside them.

"This is a regular reunion, isn't it?" he said, attempting to lighten things. "I've been... all right," he said with a shrug.

"Really? Because you look like hell," she told him, honestly.

"I haven't been feeling so great lately," he admitted, sighing. Running a hand over his face, he felt like he should go right back to sleep but had been doing so for far too long. "Burnt out, I guess."

"Maybe you need a break," she suggested, smiling hopefully. Her brows lifted with the suggestion; she'd always been a supporter of him when things had turned nasty after he left, Clark had told him.

"Look what happened the last time I took a break," he reminded, shaking his head.

A silence fell over them then, not really uncomfortable but full of everything that should've been said. Apologies for leaving, hugs for returning - even if it was only for a few minutes, and possibly the telling of the whole saga that ruined his life when it had just been beginning. Standing up, he shook his head. "It's been great seeing you guys," he told them, smiling lightly. "But I can't stay."

Standing up, Lois pressed one hand to her stomach and used the other to help her stand upright. "Well, if you're going to be leaving for another two years, at least give me a hug this time."

Chuckling, Dean leaned down to embrace her, careful to avoid her stomach. "Congratulations," he whispered. "You're going to be a great mother."

"Thank you," she said back, quietly. "I only wish you could be here to see him."

Sighing, Dean leaned back, a sad smile on his face. "I wish I could too." Looking around him, he noticed Lana escape into the back. He happened to know that she was quite angry with him over his disappearance and he hadn't been able to call or get word to her that it was for the best. It was likely better if few people knew just what had happened. Not everybody knew about what he had been specialized in doing. Really it was only Clark and Chloe who knew him extensively, but Lois, being a reporter, had dug up enough on him.

Clark stood up, giving him a brotherly hug before he could stop him and really, Dean wasn't all that uncomfortable. Seeing as they had been the best of friends for years, he wasn't put out by one small hug from a guy who had helped him through so much already. "You know she never moved," he told him. "And right about now she'll be getting Sasha ready for a morning walk. You could catch her, see your daughter. Even if you can't go near her, you could at least see her, Dean."

Pulling back, Dean nodded at him. "Stay out of trouble," he told them, glancing around The Talon rather wistfully. "I'll call you next week," he assured, before turning to walk away. Turning his head to his brother who was sunk rather low in his seat and sipping a coffee, he whistled and waved his arm for Sam to follow.

"What am I, you're dog?" he heard him mutter, annoyed.

"Not a very loyal one," Dean shot back, holding his hand out for the keys.

Sam stared at him grudgingly. "Why can't we stay? Just for a little while," he said, hopefully.

"Give me the keys," he replied, his face curling into a nasty expression. "I won't tell you twice."

Sighing, Sam dug them out of his pocket and tossed them to him before climbing into the car with an expression of pure anger.

Turning back before he climbed in the car, he grinned and waved at his two friends. Just as pushed his hood back and began to climb into the car, he heard the distinct crash of a pot breaking, causing him to look up to see a flabbergasted Lana Lang staring back at him. Letting out a long sigh, he shook his head before turning the ignition and backing away from the coffee shop that possessed so many good memories that now only hurt him to think of.

"She's my niece," Sam told him after a long silence. "I just- I wanted to see her," he tried to explain. "I wasn't there for your wedding, I only recently found out you're married and have a daughter. I just wanted to be part of it somehow."

Shaking his head, Dean turned to glare at him. "You don't think I want to be a part of it?" he shouted, his voice thick. "Dammit, Sammy, for such a smart guy, you can be so stupid!" he yelled, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. "I left for a reason," he reminded, his eyes thin with anger. "I have spent two years trying to keep them safe and you messed all of that up in a matter of one night," he told him, his voice thundering with intense rage.

"You can't keep doing this, Dean," Sam said, shaking his head. He had slumped slightly in his seat after hearing his brother yell at him, but he seemed adamant on making his point. "It's destroying you. God, have you seen yourself? It's been happening to you slowly these past few weeks, but I can see it so clearly now. Especially since you lost that ring!" he assured, shaking his head. "You may be trying to save her, but you're practically killing yourself by doing it."

"I'm fine," he ground out, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

"You're not fine," Sam yelled, vehemently. "You're not fine," he repeated, his voice more calm. "You can tell me all you want that you're trying to keep them safe, but why run away when we can do something about it?"

Dean didn't reply, instead he pulled over on the side of the road, well hidden from the house up ahead of them. It was a simple and yet beautiful home, white with a red door and blue shudders. There was a red Audi sitting in the driveway, looking rather dusty on the bottom from the dirt roads. Climbing out of the car, he leaned against it, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his eyes stuck on the front door.

An annoyed sigh came out as Sam climbed out of the car. "Why are we here?"

"Shh," Dean said, rather stiffly.

A moment later, a beautiful blonde women exited the door, holding a small girl in her hands. A stroller was being pulled behind her; after locking the door, she sat the little girl down in the seat and buckled her up. "Do you know what I would give to be standing there right now?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

Sam moved around the car to stand near him, his eyes glued to the woman and the girl she was now pushing out to the road ahead of them. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

"She'll be two on April fourth," he told him. "She was born at 6:27 am; Chloe was in labor for sixteen hours. She was six and a half pounds," he continued. "Almost completely bald but now she has dirty blonde hair. Her eyes are hazel and her first word was 'momma'." Swallowing, he shook his head slowly. "She cries when most men come around her, she only really lets Clark hold her anymore. She's can say full sentences. She's never said daddy though," he nearly whispered. "Not once. She hasn't even come close."

Chloe had pushed the cover up on the stroller, so that Sasha was being rained with a warm sun, her small arms waved around happily. A small light blue sun dress covered her petite body and the sun hit her light hair, making it glow around her like a halo. Dean watched his wife lean over the bar of the stroller to talk to Sasha, her hair hung quite long now, reaching to past her shoulders.

"You want to know why I'm not trying to fight this, Sam? Why I'm not with my family right now?" Turning around, he stared at him angrily. "Do you remember what it was like growing up without a mother? Do you remember how hard it was for dad when he lost mom?" Shaking his head, his eyes fell. "You were just a baby, but I was there to see the pain he had to go through." Clenching his jaw, his eyes returned to Sasha and Chloe as they walked down the street. "I'd rather live knowing she's alive and well, then know that I was the reason she died and my daughter was motherless."

Sam tried not to pay attention to the fact that he had noticed tears in his brother's eyes. It was so very out of character for him to show emotion; especially that of hurt or pain. Standing there though, seeing that Dean was seriously fighting with himself; willing himself to stop from running out to them, was enough to make him feel seriously bad for tricking him the way he did. However, when he watched Dean smile as his daughter shouted, "Momma, look at the doggy!" he was almost certain that he had done the right thing. Watching as Dean saw his daughter, his entire stance swelling with pride. Seeing the way he smiled so genuinely while his daughter reached out to the dog as it stopped and gave her an annoyed growl, causing her to smack his snout, exclaiming, "Bad puppy!" All of that combined, changed everything.

"Fearless," Dean said, so quietly Sam wasn't sure he had heard it.

"Just like her father," Sam commented, nodding. He had made his mind up right then, no matter how much it hurt Dean, no matter how hard it was going to be, he wouldn't let his brother leave Smallville. Not until Dean had at least met his little girl, which would take a lot of work. Sam wasn't going to back down though, there was too much riding on everything now. Perhaps if Dean had been better at hiding how happy he was at seeing his daughter, his wife, then Sam would've let it go. But he can't now; it was a matter that had to be dealt with. Whatever it took, Sam was going to reunite Dean with his family.

---------------------

**A/N**_ Sorry it took awhile. I hope you're all still reading. Thanks so much for the reviews, please do so again. I'd love to know what you think._

_-**Amanda**_


	5. Return

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _Joise, hazbo, chelseagirl14, SVOC Luva, tvmaniac2004, the jehsinator, dustori, BlackScream16, Halycon Impulsion, L'insomnie des etoiles, CuntryGurl, B, stephie1976, CSLUVSCK, _and_ especially **Tessa (x2)** _and_ **galloping-goose**._

_**The Ring**_

-_**5**_-

The scenery was flying by; trees, signs, cows. Sam sat stiffly in the passenger seat, glaring out the window and hating that he couldn't make Dean stay. He had witnessed with his own eyes, his brother's feelings for his wife and daughter; it was obvious that it was eating him up not to continue his life. His foot tapped on the floor, while his knee continued to shake with barely restrained annoyance. "You really think she's in danger?" he asked, turning to stare his brother down.

The engine revved as they turned on to the highway leading out of Smallville. "Yes," Dean replied, his voice deep and gruff.

"Well then why are we leaving?" he wondered, shaking his head. "Listen, Dean, I know you're worried about her and you want to keep her safe. And I know you don't want to use her as bait. But think about this; if we get rid of it and save Chloe... You could-- You could have this life again," he told him, his eyes wide and a smile tugging at his mouth.

His brother's jaw clenched, but he had no reply to what Sam was saying. The car continued on its journey away from everything he wanted; everything Sam was trying to give back to him. If Dean didn't have a rude comeback, then he'd just stay silent and not give in to Sam's reasoning. Meaning he couldn't let his older brother ignore the problem, he had to prove to him that it was smart to go back. "How long were you with Chloe?"

Glancing at him, Dean's eyes held a shaded pain in them. "A little over two years when I left," he told him, thickly.

"All right, and when was it that you fell in love with her?" he asked. his mouth twitching with amusement.

"Oh com'on," he muttered, shaking his head. He let out an aggravated sigh, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He took a moment, his eyes moving around over the road as if looking for a way to avoid the question. "Uh... I said it to her around four months in," he told him, shifting in his seat and running a hand over his furrowed forehead.

"No, not when you said it, when you felt it," Sam told him, shaking his head and staring at him with serious eyes but a grinning mouth.

"Are you serious?" he asked, turning to look at his brother with thinned eyes and a frown. Letting out a loud sigh, he licked his lips and gazed out at the road with annoyance. He mumbled something that Sam really couldn't understand.

"What?" he asked, the word coming out like a chuckle.

"Around a month in," he admitted, quickly, his mouth curling into a scowl. "She was laughing, we were out for dinner and I was telling her about one of my hunts. It involved me looking like a serious jackass," he told him, his mouth slowly turning up into a smile. "She..." Shaking his head, he released a reminiscent breath. "She just understood, gave a loud laugh at the situation, and then she..." Breaking off, he moved around in his seat, clearing his throat.

"She what?" Sam asked, hoping he wasn't going to shut off.

Shaking his head, Dean stayed silent for a long while, ignoring the frustrate sighs of his brother. "She told me about a time when she was searching for answers and ran into this meteor freak that really threw her for a loop. She ended up looking like an idiot and I..." Exhaling, he rubbed his forehead, his eyes forward. "I realized that I'd never met anyone like her. She got this world; the real, hard, disturbed situation it's in. And she understood it, just like I do. She knew that while she was kicking ass where she lived, the rest of the world was having problems too. She did her part, she did her best to keep it from spreading. It wasn't about self preservation but about doing something for all those people who needed it." Swallowing, he clenched his jaw momentarily. "And no matter what it takes; how many bones we break, how much blood we lose, or how often we look ridiculous for what we do, we still do it. Every day. Because someone has to, and we wouldn't have it any other way."

Turning, he looked over at Sam for a moment, completely serious, without his cocky attitude and his true self being bared for all to see. "And no matter what I told her; about what I did, what I've seen, what I've killed, she accepted it. She listened to me when I told her about every son of a bitch that ever crossed my path; every creature that killed, maimed, or scarred someone for life. She told me I was a hero, but that I had a shield of armor so thick it kept my emotions from spilling out to even those who matter. And for once, I didn't let that include someone else. I completely broke it down; I let her in and I fell hard." Shaking his head, he turned his face away, his hand running over his eyes quickly. "And I had that taken away from me; after all I gave to this world, my pay back was knowing that if I had that life, I would lose her."

Sam shook his head, "But--"

"No," he interrupted, his foot pressing down on the accelerator. "I can handle a lot of things, Sammy. I can take death, killing, hunting, fighting. I can accept that innocents will be killed, if only to lead us to what we have to destroy. But I cannot let them die," he told him. "Chloe was my _life,_ Sammy. She was everything I had; I left her to keep her alive. I will not come back just to lose her all over; permanently," he told him, darkly.

Staying silent for a moment, Sam turned away, trying to come up with something to change his mind. "What if... What if after all of your running, it takes her anyway?" he asked. "Maybe it hasn't happened yet, and there's a possibility it won't. But what if it knows you still care and it was just waiting for that moment where you show it again. Maybe it was biding it's time and now it really has returned. For all we know, it's been there all along." Turning his head back and forth, he twisted in his seat, staring at his brother seriously. "We could end it Dean. You could have Chloe back; have you life back," he told him, nodding.

Sighing with frustration, Dean kept driving, but Sam couldn't help but feel a small jolt of excitement as the speedometer began dropping. Finally, Dean just pulled the car off the road, turning in his seat to partly glare at his younger brother. "And what do you propose we do, Sam?"

Inhaling deeply, Sam floundered slightly, shaking his head and hoping some kind of plan would surface. "Well... First, we should talk to her. Find out if she's been feeling as if anything has been around her lately. Ask her if it feels like there's been something around the house, or if anything has been acting funny."

Dean stared at him for a moment, with angry, dark eyes. Turning back around, he stared ahead. "We're talkin' about disrupting her life," he said, quietly. "About telling her why I left and asking her to-- Asking for forgiveness for trying to keep them safe," he told him, shaking his head and lowering his chin to stare at the ring on his hand. "And risking them... Risking _her_ to get vengeance..." His voice had started to choke up, startling Sam with its deep sincerity. It was so rare that Dean showed emotions this way.

Swallowing, Sam nodded. "But we're also talking about saving them. And you. She won't get hurt Dean, we won't let her. I think-- Together, we can beat this thing. It doesn't have to be this way, you could have her back. You could be a dad to Sasha," he told him, hesitantly reaching out to put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Shaking his head, Dean leaned forward resting his forehead on his hands as they wrapped tightly on the steering wheel. "If things get bad," he said, his voice strained. "If for one second we think we can't stop it and she's in danger, then we leave. It'll leave her alone if it doesn't think I care. It's the only way." Leaning back, he turned to Sam, his face stone serious. "I'm not kidding, Sammy, we leave immediately. I will not put them in the way of this."

"A-All right," he agreed, nodding. He didn't want to grin, but he could feel it pulling at his mouth.

"Shut up," Dean told him, shaking his head and turning the car around.

"I didn't say anything," Sam returned, turning his face to hide his smile.

Grumbling, Dean shook his head, leaning back in his seat as he headed back towards town. In hopes of not deterring him from his new decision, Sam chose to keep his mouth. The closer they got to the center of town had his grin growing though, and he was fairly sure his brother would have some choice words for him. While Dean had agreed not to leave, he still looked ready to kick the crap out of Sam for what he pulled. Finally, they parked at a Hotel, where Dean told Sam he had to go in and get the room for them.

A short while later they were walking into a room with two large queens, dropping their bags to the floor. Almost immediately Dean sat down at the phone and started dialing. "Who're you calling?" he wondered.

"Clark," he replied, his voice curt. His brow was pulled together, making him appear troubled. There was almost no point in asking him what was wrong, he wouldn't get an honest answer, probably just a snide remark.

"And Clark is...?" he wondered, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck.

"He's a friend, a best friend I guess," he said, waving his hand as if it was nothing.

"I thought you hated having ties to people," Sam commented.

Apparently Clark wasn't home because Dean slammed the phone down a moment later, looking agitated. "Life is easier without ties, yes," he replied, shrugging. "Some people refuse to be ignored though; Clark is one of those people. If Chloe had a choice, she wouldn't be ignored either."

"But how can Clark really force himself into your life, you move from city to city, never stopping for long periods," Sam said, shaking his head with question.

Sighing, Dean closed his eyes, running his hands over his face. "Look, it doesn't matter. Clark's been a good friend for years. He tells me what's going on with Chloe whenever I call. He knows what I do and why I left, but he's the only one," he told him, rising from the chair. "Is this grilling over? Because I need to take a shower," he told him, not waiting for an answer as he walked into the bathroom and half slammed the door.

"Yeah," Sam whispered to himself, rolling his eyes.

A long while later, Sam found himself being shaken awake. At some point he must've fallen asleep; it wasn't all that unbelievable since he had been driving for a day and a half and it was his first time in a bed for what felt like a week. He stared up rather confused at his brother who was looking slightly unnerved and very annoyed. He began pacing, his arms crossed and his eyes darting around.

"All right," he said, his voice gruff, "she's not going to know I'm here. We're going to treat this like any other case, except I'm an outsider on it. You're going to go see her, ask her if she's been feeling anything weird about her house. Tell her something so she doesn't ask questions. You'll figure out if she's been having any issues. This could work." Nodding, he waved his hands as if it were settled. "If there's a problem, then we stay. But if she doesn't think there's anything wrong, then we leave. I'm not disrupting her. As long as she's safe and happy, then I don't need to interfere." Stopping, he turned to Sam, staring at him deadly seriously. "Ya understand?"

Exhaling heavily, Sam threw his legs over the side of the bed, staring up at Dean with disappointed eyes. "And if there is something wrong? Then what?"

"Then we stay and work it. I just won't come inside the house or have anything to do with Chloe until absolutely necessary," he told him, nodding. "This can work. If I show up, she's going to be more concerned with kicking my ass then destroying a demon hanging around."

Sam smiled slowly, "Do you think she could beat you?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean shook his head. "Focus Sammy," he told him, thickly. Clenching his jaw, he looked away and then back. "And she most likely will, yeah."

Guffawing with laughter, Sam shook his head. "I like her already."

Snickering, Dean walked to the door. "Com'on, let's get started on this."

Sighing, Sam stood up from the bed, stretching as he walked to the door, covering the yawn exiting his mouth. He noticed that his brother threw his hood up almost immediately and wondered about the secrecy. "Surely word won't make it back to Chloe that you're in town this quickly," he said, amused.

"Smallville fits its name, Sammy, and people know me here; very well," he told him, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making his way to the car. "We go over, you talk to her and I'll wait in the car," he told him, sitting down in the passenger seat.

"Fine," Sam agreed, sounding defeated. "But I still think you should talk to her."

"You wanted to meet her," he told him, becoming quickly agitated. "Well, this is your chance."

Deciding to shut up, Sam started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, heading out to the house on the outskirts of town. He found himself parked near the tree they'd hung around when Chloe had taken Sasha for a walk earlier. He noticed the red Acura in the driveway and the lights on in the house.

"She's making dinner," Dean told him, staring out at the house with a look that could only be described as wistful. Letting out a rather sad sounding sigh, he nodded his head for Sam to go. "She'll ask you to come back later if you don't hurry up. Dinner will be on the table soon," he said, glancing down at his watch. "She might invite you if she likes you."

Nodding, Sam pushed open his car door and walked across the field, over the dirt road, and up the stone pathway to the front door. Knocking, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and found himself feeling rather nervous. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to her, realizing he hadn't figured out a lie before he came over. Part of him didn't want her to open the door as she was probably going to see right through him. His mind was whirring but no answer was coming out.

The door swung open revealing a blonde, green eyed beauty that would knock the breath out of any guys chest. He was struck again by just how beautiful his sister-in-law was and for a moment forgot he should be speaking. Dean would kick his head in if he knew just how utterly gorgeous Sam couldn't help but think his brother's wife was. He knew that line was not only uncrossable, but unfathomable. Making himself smile, he found himself chuckling uncomfortably. "Hi," he managed.

"Hi," she returned, looking rather confused as to his existence on her front porch.

"Uh, are you Chloe Winchester?" he asked, feeling like he should be inserting his foot into his mouth.

Her smile faltered for a moment but she nodded none-the-less. "Yes," she replied, nodding. "And you are?"

"Sam," he replied quickly, holding his hand out for her to shake. It was in that moment that he realized he couldn't lie even if he wanted to. She had a way about her, perhaps it was her enchanting eyes, or maybe it was just because he hated to think he was starting out any kind of connection with his brother's wife with a lie. "Winchester," he finished. "I-- I'm--"

"Dean's brother," she said, her hand stilling and tightening just a fraction in his before she released it. Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Yeah, I've heard a lot about you," she told him, smiling again. "Dean, he used to-- He talked about you, a lot." Nodding, she looked away for a moment, in her thoughts. Backing up, she held the door open. "Would you like to come in?" she asked, holding her arm back behind her.

"Uh yes, yes thank you," he said, nodding. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and stepped in, briefly glancing back to see an empty car.

Walking through the door, he found himself in a wide hallway. To his right was a spacious and homey kitchen with a black marble island in the center, pots and pans hanging high above, and dark wood cupboards sitting high on the walls all around. Stainless steel appliances including a stove, fridge, and dishwasher were placed throughout the large area. He craned his neck slightly, seeing the dining room at other end of the kitchen. A round table with four chairs sat near the open double patio doors.

To his left was a comfy appearing living room, holding a long, plush black couch, with a matching arm chair and love seat. A tall stone fireplace was built on the far wall, looking both familial and rich. Adjacent to it was a glass paned door, left partway open; Sam could see the beginning of a book case and assumed they had an office, or even a small library leading off from the living room. Centered against the same wall was a wide screen plasma TV, with an expensive looking stereo system that Sam had no problem identifying as Dean's. There was even a standing CD rack covered in every CD that Dean owned in his cassette collection.

Ahead of him, leading to the second floor, were hardwood stairs, with a light brown banister framing them. On the walls were pictures hung all over; Chloe with little Sasha took up most of them, but there were others involving people Sam was sure were the friends Dean had when he was there. He came across Dean and Chloe in their wedding picture and couldn't help but smile widely, taking in just how unbelievably happy his brother was. As he looked around, he found that Dean was in a lot of the frames hanging over the walls, just none that possessed Sasha. He could pick out who he assumed was Clark, as a strapping, dark haired boy about their age was in a lot of the photos with Dean, grinning happily.

"I-- I don't mean to interrupt, but..." Chloe sighed, coming up to stand near him. "I hope this doesn't sound rude, but why are you here?" she wondered. "I mean, I know that you and Dean weren't very close last time I checked, but I'm sure you know about what happened..."

"You mean with his leaving," Sam asked, nodding.

"Leaving is an easy word for it," she replied, her mouth setting into a frown. "In any case, if you're here because you're looking for him, then I can't give you any information on where is. You'd be better suited going to Clark Kent, I have a suspicion that he and Dean are still very much in contact." Nodding, she turned and walked into the kitchen. "I'm sorry I can't be of help, but..." she called back.

Hearing the racket up pans and utensils, Sam walked into the kitchen to see her cooking whatever was on her stove; all he knew was that it smelled heavenly. "Uh, see, I know where Dean is," he told her, somewhat awkwardly. "That's not why I'm here actually."

"Oh?" she asked, turning to look back at him. Her brow furrowed and her eyes thinned. "You're a long way from home," she said, before turning back to her food. "Shouldn't you be off at college, becoming a big shot lawyer, right now?" she queried. There wasn't any mocking or malice in her voice, just a simply question.

"No, plans changed," he replied, rather quietly.

Nodding, Chloe sighed. "I get what you mean," she said, flipping something from a pan out on to a plate. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Sam?" she asked, turning back to smile at him lightly. "I'm sure there's a good reason why you're here. Seeing as you couldn't make it to the wedding and appear to know where your brother is, you must have your explanations."

"Yes ma'am, thank you," he replied, nodding.

Smiling, she chuckled lightly. "While I appreciate the manners, you don't need to call me 'ma'am'."

Smiling, he nodded, "All right." Glancing out the open porch doors, his eyes widened as he saw Sasha running around the backyard, a teddy bear in her hands. Dean was just on the outskirts of the fence, leaning across it to look at his little girl, a faint smile could be seen. Walking to the island, he leaned over it, his elbows down on the marble top counter, as he waited for Chloe to finish her cooking and watched his niece make her way over to his brother. He felt the need to shout for triumph but managed to cap his enthusiasm when Chloe turned to him.

"Your brother used to stand in that exact same place," she told him, nodding.

"Yeah?" he asked.

She smiled rather fondly, tipping her head. "He had this thing about hanging around while I was cooking. He said it was because he enjoyed watching me; that I had a tendency to furrow my brow and bite my lip. I always told him it was really because he enjoyed getting to sample everything," she told him with a soft laugh.

Grinning, Sam nodded. "Sounds like Dean," he agreed.

"Mm," she said, nodding. Her eyes got that faraway look again, but she came back to reality quickly. "So, to what do I owe this random visit of yours?"

Sighing, Sam stood up, his face becoming serious. "You know what Dean, my dad and I do, right?" he asked.

Nodding, Chloe stirred something before returning her attention to him. "Extensively," she replied.

"Right," he said, tilting his head. "Well, I have reason to believe that something might be... That there might be something after you... and Sasha," he told her, feeling like his words were rushed.

"You think there's something... But why?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she shook her head. "And why now?"

Licking his lips, Sam's shoulders slumped. He had no idea how much information he was supposed to disclose. "Look, it's really complicated, but for now I just need to know if you've felt anything around the house. Chills, unexplainable occurrences, anything to that effect," he told her, his head turning back and forth with question.

Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, Chloe stared at him for a moment. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, there hasn't been anything like that."

Nodding, Sam felt both reassurance and defeat. If there were no problems then they were going to leave and Sam couldn't afford that. His mind ran with thoughts, trying to figure out some way to get them to stay. Sighing, he frowned as he looked at Chloe. "What about people? Have there been any people hanging around that have been unusual or out of the ordinary?"

"This is Smallville," she told him, cocking her brow. "All new people turn out to be meteor freaks and those who aren't, don't stay around long."

"I know this seems rather farfetched, but Dean... He told me that there was something hanging around the house, that-- He could feel something here and I can't tell you why he left, because he has to, but I think that there might be something wrong around here. I don't want to scare you, but I can't leave until I know you and Sasha aren't in danger," he told her, quickly.

Staring at him for a moment with an unreadable expression, Chloe turned back to the stove. "You're a lot like your brother, you know that?" she asked. Pulling out bowls, she began ladling food into them. "Dean, when he had to tell me something he wasn't sure I'd understand, he'd rush it all out, almost as if he thought if he spoke fast enough I'd just accept it as truth." Turning the switches on the stove to off, she turned back to him. "You're leaving something very vital out, Sam, and you can be assured that I will find it out. I won't be using the same techniques as I did with Dean, for apparent reasons, but I will figure you out."

Exhaling heavily, Sam nodded. "There are some things I can't tell you. That he has to tell you."

"I don't know when the last time you spoke to Dean was," she said, her voice holding a slight edge, "but he and I don't speak anymore. He made that choice and I've made my own decision to keep it that way. Whatever reasons he has for leaving are his own and I don't need to know them. I'm fine," she told him, firmly.

Swallowing, he looked down from her hard gaze. Gathering his strength, he lifted his eyes to hers. "What about Sasha? Is she fine?"

Her hard expression faltered for a moment. "She-- She wonders things... Questions where he is. She knows who he is, I've shown her pictures, told her about him. But it's not the same," she said, shaking her head. Picking up the bowls, she walked to the already set kitchen table, setting them down. "We'll talk after dinner," she told him; her expression seriously telling him that the conversation was on hold.

Nodding, he accepted that they she didn't want him speaking about it in front of Sasha. When she began walking to the door however, Sam intercepted, asking if he could get her.

"She doesn't always... react well to men," Chloe told him, sighing. "Even with those she's known her whole life, she's very tense around most of them."

"Can I give it a try?" he asked, hopefully. He could clearly see from his stand point that Dean was speaking to Sasha so intently that he hadn't even realized Chloe and Sam were quickly getting near the doors leading outside. He couldn't begin to wonder what would happen if Chloe happened upon her husband, and then questioned exactly what Dean would do. Part of him wanted to let his sister-in-law walk in on them, simply because it would end any hidden agenda. But another part knew his brother would really kick his ass, plus it might not turn out as good as they were all hoping. Chloe continued on her quest to the open porch doors though, if she didn't stop soon, she's see them.

* * *

**A/N** _Sorry it's been awhile, but I haven't forgotten about this story. I'll try and update on my other Sup/Sma stories soon. Hope you enjoyed this story, please leave a review._

_-_**Amanda**


	6. Home

**Thank you to the following reviewers**_: Tessa, Joise, L'insomnie des etoiles, Caitrie, IY-ROX, xfalloutgirlx, MissCaptainKate, dayamiracle, irishgirl9, **toyatazuka** _and_ especially **galloping-goose** (Zeus). _

_**The Ring**_

-**6**-

Dean watched his brother make the trek over to his former house with Chloe. There was a twisting in his stomach, a persistent thought in his head, that told him to go too. He wanted to see her, wanted to pick up where he left off with her. But he knew the second she set eyes on him that any hopes he had would be dashed. He had done the unthinkable, up and leaving her when she needed him most. It had been for her, for Sasha, but she wouldn't look at it that way.

When Sam reached the yard, Dean made his way out of the car and hid behind the tree nearby. He waited until he was sure that his brother had been accepted inside the house before he traveled to the side of the the large abode and reminisced over memories that ran through his mind just at being near it. His eyes roamed the shape and well kept manner of the house, his hand unconsciously trailed over the wall. He remembered renovating a few aspects of the home, making sure it was in the best shape possible for them.

There were so many uplifting thoughts when they had moved in. He could still remember the silly grin on his face at knowing that Sasha was going to grow up with him there. There weren't going to be any road trips for hunts or sleeping in Motels off and on and living out of a car. She was going to grow up like a normal kid with her dad and her mom. And he couldn't wait for that; he could hardly fathom a life without it any longer. But then it all changed on him, turned upside down. And instead of living in the house with his family, he was only getting back to it after two years of running away.

A dark feeling of remorse passed through him then and the once happy smile he had at remembering his hopes had disappeared to be replaced by a frown. He was careful to duck under windows when he passed them, not certain of which room she'd be in, but almost sure that she'd have gone to the kitchen to work on dinner.

As he approached the backyard, he felt all of the air escape his chest. He had seen pictures, had watched her from afar, but being this close was almost enough to knock him off his feet. His daughter was beyond beautiful. There were no words to express the tight feeling in his chest when saw her. Her hair bounced around her shoulders while a bright grin sat warmly on her glowing face. She carried a ratty teddy bear that looked as if it had seen much better days, and he felt his mouth twitch with a smile when he realized it was the one he had bought her for her when she was first born.

She was running around the backyard with the carefree nature only a toddler can possess. Her little feet hopped around beneath her with jubilant enjoyment of nothing in particular. Her arms waved around frantically, almost as if she were trying to fly, while she did what almost looked like a little dance in the grass.

He remembered the porch door and knew that Chloe liked to keep it open while she cooked, but he ignored the pang in his mind that told him he had to be careful. He focused solely on Sasha and had to force down the need to reach out, pluck her up from the ground, and smother her with the love he had suffocated for more than two long years.

She turned to him and he half expected her to scream or cry with fright. Clark had said that she didn't take well to males and he thought since she had never met him she would immediately have the same reaction to him. But he was pleasantly surprised when she simply stood completely still for a moment, staring at him curiously. Finally, she ambled over to him, her head tipped to one side with question.

"Hey there," he said, his voice came out gentle and soft, surprising him. His eyes ran over her sweet, angelic face. She was standing at the edge of the fence now, just a few inches from him. He could reach right out and hug her easily. "You're Sasha, right?" he asked, feeling a little awkward and not sure how he was supposed to talk to her without revealing that he was her dad.

She nodded, curling her arm so her teddy was pressed up against her. "Hi," she replied, her voice soft and cheery as she smiled up at him sweetly.

Realizing that she probably shouldn't be talking to strangers, be felt a fatherly urge to tell her to be more careful, even though it got him this conversation in the first place. "I bet your mom has told you not to talk to strangers, hasn't she?" he asked, bending his knees so he was face to face with her, which momentarily stunned him into silence. "She's right y'know."

She nodded quickly, taking another step forward. "Yeah, stwangers are bad," she told him, glancing at the house briefly. "But it's o-tay," she added, smiling, her rosy cheeks rising and making her pretty eyes gleam with innocent trust.

"Why is that?" he asked, leaning his chin on his two hands on the top of the fence.

Stepping forward, she stared right into his eyes, not looking the least bit worried. He was shocked at how comfortable she acted with him when he had heard so often that she would cry when any man so much as looked at her.

"I know you," she told him, nodding. "Momma show me pi'tures 'a you," she explained, smiling. "Momma tell me, she say you's is daddy."

"Did she?" he asked, feeling emotion lodge in his throat painfully. He blinked his eyes furiously, knowing that she'd never said the title, he likely didn't deserve, before.

She moved her head up and down in answer. "Momma cwy," she told him sticking her bottom lip out. "But she show me you lots'a times."

She stood with the the slight breeze pushing her small curls over her shoulders, with her face bright and welcoming. He was almost certain that she wouldn't protest if he did reach out and pick her up, or hug her tightly. She may even return the action, but he wasn't about to test it, just in case. And, part of him was sure that if he picked her up, he might never put her down.

"Yeah?" he managed, feeling his eyes fill and blinking them furiously.

"I said, 'don't cwy momma,' but she still did," she replied, sighing softly. "She misseded you."

Nodding, he felt his mouth pull in a forced smile, while it really wanted to shake and grimace at her words. He felt like he was being drained of energy, as if everything he had done was being lobbed at him until he fell into a pitiful mess. All that he had repressed over the years were coming back full force and pouring out of him with the force of a juggernaut.

"I missed her, too," Dean told her, rubbing his hand over his eyes swiftly. "And I missed you," he whispered, hating that his chin was quivering.

"You stay now?" she asked, reaching out and putting her small hand on his, curling around a couple of his fingers.

He stared down at their hands for a moment, his so large and hers so tiny. It had been smaller once, but he hadn't been there for that. And it would grow over the years, along with her. She would become a teenager and then a women. He would become older, his hand would wither, become marred in liver spots one day. But would her small slip of a hand still sit on his then? Would he be around for her to do something so affectionate and innocent in the years to come?

"I'm not sure yet," he replied, feeling the weight of his actions come barreling down on his shoulders with a vengeance. "Your mom and I... we need to talk. And there are some things that I..." He shook his head, hating that he was making excuses to his two year old for not being there. He stared at her a long moment, taking in the warm hazel of her eyes and the rosy pink of her pouting mouth. She had hope in her eyes and an expression of trust all ready in the way she was standing. "Do you want me to?" he asked, and he was quite fearful of her answer. Because really it would reflect on his every action for the rest of his life.

She tipped her head up and blinked at him a few times, her nose wrinkling as she smiled. "Yeah," she said, her eyes looking around his face before she reached out with her tiny hand and pressed it against his cheek. "You stay wif me," she told him, bringing her hazel eyes to meet his. "I share my teddy wif you," she added, holding it up as if to bribe him into it.

Dean cleared his throat, looking down at the brown plush bear, with it's tattered fur and ripped ear. She must've had it hanging around from her hand where ever she went since she got it. "That's a nice bear," he said, reaching out to touch its arm briefly.

"Yeah," she agreed, sighing. "It named Sammy!" she told him, sounding triumphant. "Sammy the teddy!"

"Sammy, huh?" he asked, a smile pulling at his mouth. He could feel the crinkle at the side of his eyes that always appeared when he grinned. "I have a brother Sammy. He's your uncle," he told her, glancing at the house briefly.

"Yeah, momma say Sammy is your brover. I ask why I no have brover," she said, her eyes falling and her lip jutting out in a pout. "You back, now I have brover?" she wondered, looking back up and smiling at him hopefully.

"Uh..." Dean felt the need to tug at his collar, knowing that having another kid with him was likely the last thing from Chloe's mind. If by chance they did get back together, would she worry that he'd leave again when she got pregnant? He felt a sharp pang in his heart and tried to shake off the pain. Turning back to his daughter, he leaned his head to one side, winking at her. "I'll see what I can do," he said, hoping she didn't put too much stock in it.

"Clark is having baby," she informed him, nodding. "Clark say I will be like sister to it. I get to play with it and hold it," she said cheerily. "You has eyes like mine," she suddenly told him, her small fingers reaching out to run beneath them. "You sick?" she wondered, apparently noticing the dark marks beneath them. "I get you bwankie an' juice!" she exclaimed, nodding excitedly. "You come lay down," she told him, firmly, tugging on his hand and beginning to walk away.

When he didn't budge, she turned back to him and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn't going to simply let him not come with her. So he did something that was bound to create a huge problem. He crawled over the fence and picked her up. She almost immediately curled into him as if he'd done it a million times before, which was reassuring in its own way. Her head lolled onto his shoulder and her teddy bear hung down against his chest.

"I misseded you," she told him, leaning up just slightly to press a small kiss against his cheek. Her arm curled around his neck, hugging him. "Why you go 'way?"

He felt his knees tremble beneath him and he stopped walking. Turning his head, he pressed it against her small shoulder, closing his burning eyes. "I'm sorry," he told her, holding her in a tight embrace, though loose enough not to hurt her. "I... I missed you every day," he whispered, a sob escaping the back of his throat. "Oh God, I... Sasha," he whimpered, pulling back just slightly to look at her. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I had to go so you would be safe and... It's hard to understand... I just..." he didn't know how to explain it to her. She was young and she wouldn't know what to think about a demon that was out to kill her mom. "I wasn't there when you needed me," he said, his voice shaking, "but I always thought about you."

Her hand reached out, brushing at his tears as they fell down his face. "You cwyin'," she told him, frowning. "Don't cwy," she told him, swinging her teddy bear filled arm up to loop around his neck. "You be otay, daddy. No more cwyin'."

If at all possible that just made him feel worse; here she was trying to reassure him and stop his crying, while he had abandoned her long before he could ever wipe her tears away. Cupping her small face with the palm of his hand, he swallowed his despair and nodded. "I'll be okay," he told her, his thumb running beneath her bright eye.

She nodded, leaning in to hug him again, so he closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder. She felt so tiny in his arms, virtually weightless, and yet she meant the world to him.

There was a buzz in his ears, bringing him back to reality. He could hear voices, two that he recognized without having to think it through. His brother was trying to convince Chloe that he could get Sasha, she didn't have to. And he knew that was a cue to leave. A reminder that if he wanted to hide, he had to disappear right then. But she was so warm and adoring, and he had spent years wishing he could hug her, he simply couldn't put her down. So instead, he walked towards the porch, knowing their would be screaming, possibly slapping, a good portion of apologizing, and a never ending stream of tears.

The voices were louder now and as his feet brought him closer to the porch, he knew he was seconds away from being found out.

"Momma, daddy is sick!" she exclaimed, pointing at him and then turning to her mother.

There she was. Standing before him looking just as radiant as the day he met her. Her hair was a little longer and her face was void of the smile he had been used to seeing whenever in her presence. She stared, open mouthed, with stiff shoulders and a limp expression. And he stared back, knowing that his face was still damp with tears and his mouth was shaking with everything he needed to say, had been waiting to say.

"Chloe," was all he managed, and even it came out choked and hoarse.

That seemed to snap her out of it though, because she almost immediately shook her head and her eyes fell before she was stumbling backwards and disappearing into the house. Dean looked away for a moment, closing his eyes briefly, before he trudged up the stairs and into the house after her.

A rush of memories slammed into his eyes as he walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. He just barely saw her turn the corner at the other end of the long house. He heard Sam sigh in the background, though it sounded both worried and happy. He considered what he should do about his daughter, who hadn't put up any protest to being lugged around, but he knew he couldn't say certain things in front of her. Stopping, he turned to his brother, who was nearly smiling, but really just looked a little surprised.

"Sasha," he said, pulling her back a little and finding that smile that always pulled at him whenever he set eyes on her had come back again. "You remember my brother Sammy, like your teddy?" he asked, nodding his head over to the very tall man standing on the threshold of the porch and dining room. "That's him."

She turned, her cheeks lifting as she smiled. She looked a whole lot more shy with him than she had with Dean though, as she leaned closer to her father and pulled her teddy around to snuggle up near her face, hiding it.

"Hi," Sam said, coming forward, a huge grin dawning on his face. His hand raised, running through the back of his hair as he seemed lost as to what to say to a small child such as herself. "Uh... are you hungry? 'Cause your mom made some dinner," he said, motioning to the table.

Dean nodded, walking over and setting her down on a chair that seemed to be especially suited for her. "Why don't you stay here and eat with Sammy while I go talk to your mom?" he asked, running his hand over her hair and feeling as if he had fallen into being a dad as if it were his second identity.

She bobbed her head in agreeance, pulling her teddy down a little to look at her uncle curiously. As Dean started to leave however, she turned to him abruptly. "You tum back?" she asked, sounding worried as her eyes widened and her mouth fell into a pout.

"Yeah," he assured, nodding vigorously. "I'll be back in a little while." He smiled, winking at her. Before he continued his trek across the kitchen, he kicked his shoes off, knowing that she hated it when people wore shoes inside the house. IT was an automatic reaction, and he rolled his eyes at his brother's snort of amusement in the background. Tossing them to beside the porch door, he continued through the kitchen, his feet moving hurriedly beneath him.

He stared up the long stairs for a moment, his eyes caught by the pictures on the wall momentarily. There were so many more than he remembered, a collection of Sasha during moments where he was missing. Pulling his gaze away, he made his way up the stairs, two at a time. Standing in the empty hall, he stared down at the room where he had set up the nursery for Sasha himself... with a little help from Clark when he couldn't figure out the crib to save his life. Though the man of steel didn't seem to be much of a help when he arrived either. In the end, Chloe and him put it together later that night, more Chloe than him, but that was besides the point.

He had done all the painting and set up the room whenever he was off from work and Chloe was writing or napping. He filled the bookshelves with books, the chest with toys, and every once in a while he'd turn the mobile on, a sweet tune escaping, and sit in the rocking chair, thinking about the future of his family.

He wondered what it looked like now, but told himself to think of that later. He had to focus on what was important and reminiscing or even catching up could be done later. Now he had to explain himself, which involved groveling a this wife's feet and begging for her understanding. He only hoped he didn't do something stupid, because every time he saw her, he wanted to kiss her, and he was certain that she would not take kindly to that.

Ambling down the hallway, he knocked softly on the bedroom door. A wisp of a memory ran through his mind where the door was never closed and he'd often walk inside to find her napping on her side of the bed, her hand curled around her belly. When she didn't answer, he turned the handle not surprised to find it unlocked. In that past, she had tried locking the bathroom door when she was mad at him for something and he had simply picked the lock, so she gave up on that.

The door creaked briefly as it opened, and he looked around the room to see it hadn't changed at all. His eyes roamed the area, starting at the long dresser beside him, the top was littered with things. Her jewelry box lid lay half off, a necklace hanging out. Beside it were a few open items of make up and a photograph that had his heart clenching. After two years, he had assumed she would get rid of anything that resembled their relationship, but there in colour was her and him sitting in the backseat of the Impala, his arm hanging over her shoulder as she leaned against him, their heads pressed against each other, smiles gleaming on their faces. He remembered that moment like it was yesterday.

It was shortly after their two month anniversary, they had gone camping with Clark, Lana, and Lois. However, Clark had said something that annoyed both women and they were having a minor fight about it, refusing to speak to anybody except to trade little jabs at each other. Fed up with the spat, Dean and Chloe had ventured off to his car for a private conversation, for the quiet and peace that they had gone to the woods for, and simply sat back in the car, enjoying each other's company. She had taken her camera out stating that if this was going to be their only good memory from the trip, they might as well capture it on film. And so they had, and while it hadn't been the only great memory, as he firmly remembered a nice evening in their tent, it had been one that he enjoyed and still thought back to every now and then.

While everything and everyone else had been fighting, they were able to get away to enjoy their own little peace with just each other, and it often seemed to express their relationship. When the world seemed to be up in arms, they found comfort and understanding in each other. Whether they had just returned from kicking ass or simply returning from another day of regular work, they always came back to each other, where things were good and right.

They had their fights, they weren't impervious to the spats of any couple, but in the end, they always made up. There was never anything so big that it ripped them apart, but this may very well be the one thing that could. He had a lot to own up to and he couldn't pretend that he hadn't done it. She deserved to know, had to know really, and he wasn't going to keep it from her.

His eyes finally rested on the bed, where she lay curled in a ball, her arms wrapped around her head, face pressed into them tightly. Closing the door behind him, he walked carefully toward her, not entirely sure that she wasn't going to swing out and knock him off his feet. When he reached the bed, he sat down, his back to her as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I can't say anything that will make it stop hurting," he told her, shaking his head slowly. "I can tell you the truth, the reason I left, and I can try and explain just how much I was doing it for you... but you're likely still going to hate me," he said quietly, feeling tired and empty.

It was completely silent for awhile and he didn't dare interrupt it, because if she didn't want to know, he would wait until she did. He wasn't going to force his reasons on her, he wanted her to want it. He didn't want her to think he was begging for her to understand,even if he was in some ways. He needed her to know that he never wanted to leave her, that he wished he could come back every single day.

There was rustling and he knew that she had straightened out. She sniffled, but it was muffled, and he assumed she was clearing her face up. "Just tell me why," she whispered, her voice clearly torn with tears.

"I started to feel something," he started and she made a noise, so he thought perhaps she had taken it the wrong way. As if he was going to say that he had begun to feel something for someone else, which was really quite impossible.

"There was this crackling in the air, a buzzing almost. And I knew that something was building. I felt it when my mom... I could tell something was different back when my mom..." He closed his eyes, hating it whenever he had to bring her up. She had always been a sore spot with him, even if he had been four when she died.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head a little. "I got scared. I started looking around for things, trying to figure what it could be or how I could stop it. But it just kept getting stronger, until I was sure that whatever had killed her was going to..." he trailed off. He remembered exactly what he was thinking as time passed and he felt as if whatever was there was swallowing the house, getting closer and closer to Chloe.

He paused, taking in a deep gulp of air and letting it out shakily. "I thought it was coming for you and all I could think was that I wasn't strong enough to save you. That I was going to... to wake up one night to you screaming and find you pinned to the r-roof in flames," he managed, his throat tightening.

He had nightmares for the longest time, seeing her up on the ceiling, fire rolling around her while she screamed for him to help her. Seeing his baby girl crying in her crib, wailing for her mom and the sheer fear she was feeling. He'd wake up, sweating profusely and terrified of what he might see when he looked up at the dark roof. It got to be where he could hardly close his eyes without fearing what he'd see. He'd hold her tighter after that, his hands pressed to her pregnant belly, scared for the future.

Running his hands over his face, he dug his palms into his eyes, rubbing at them and feeling as if he was dried up, stale and tired. "I considered calling dad but... He was always so obsessed with catching what killed mom that I was worried he might... use you as bait. I couldn't risk that," he murmured.

He could imagine the phone call easily. He picked the phone up and considered calling his father on numerous occasions. But he'd press the receiver to his ear, have his fingers hanging above the buttons for a few seconds and then he could just see exactly how it would play out. His father would demand that he do nothing until he arrived. He would then tell Dean to meet him somewhere away from the house where they could speak privately. And then he would order Dean to let him do whatever it took to get the demon, and Dean just couldn't that happen.

Swallowing, he glanced out of the corner of his eyes, trying to see her without actually turning. He could just barely catch that she was looking at his back, her hand up by her mouth and her eyes still crying. "Y'know, some people said us Winchester's have a curse and I began to think that was true. I thought maybe if I got away from you, if it thought I didn't care at all, it would leave you alone," he explained, shaking his head. "I waited as long as I could, but when I realized just how close it was getting to Sasha being born, I knew that I had to go. If I stayed, I would get attached. And the sooner I left, the more legitimate it seemed I didn't care," he rushed out, exhaling heavily.

Rubbing at his face, he felt the few days growth on his jaw, scratchy against his palms. "I waited for you to fall asleep and then I... I held you for as long as I could. When I knew that if I stayed any longer I would change my mind, I said my goodbyes and then I took the Impala and left. I drove as far as I could, called dad and told him the bare minimum and then I got back to working with him," he told her, his throat clenching and becoming pained with a dryness that swallowed it whole.

"I called Clark every week, trying to find out if you had any problems at all. After awhile I realized that whatever was there hadn't come for you. So I stayed away. I figured as long as I was gone, you'd both be safe." Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes, hating how exhausted he felt. "I just... I couldn't bear the thought of it taking you," he breathed, his voice petering out on him.

"But you could leave me?" she asked, her voice questioning and hurt. "You don't know how that felt," she told him, letting out a pained sob. "I waited... I thought maybe you had been called away by John... I just kept telling myself that you would never--" Inhaling sharply, she cut herself off. "Dammit Dean, you said forever. You said you'd always love me," she cried.

The bed moved and he knew that she was no longer laying down, but sitting up against the backboard. Her knees were probably pulled up to her chest while her balled hands were pressed against her legs. "I do love you," he said, quietly. "And when I said forever, I meant it. I was doing it for you."

"Doing it for me?" she repeated, her voice high and angry. "If you wanted to do something for me you should've stayed!" she shouted.

"And tempted it?" he asked, his voice growing as he turned to her on the bed, his leg moving to lay on top of it. "You don't want it's like, Chloe! When dad lost mom, he completely changed. He was almost insane with needing to kill it. He was left raising me and my brother, which was probably the only thing that kept him from killing himself," he told her, hoarsely.

"And Sammy lost his girlfriend too!" he added, shaking his head. "He went back to his apartment, fell asleep, and woke up to her fucking bleeding on his face and stuck in flames on the roof!" he yelled.

His brow furrowed as he stared at her, pained and tired. "All I could think was that I was going to wake up one night and you'd be right there above me, or I'd hear screaming from down the hall. I couldn't bear that," he bellowed, his voice thick. "You think I wanted to leave? You think I wanted to give up my daughter? Or you? God, Chloe, you were all I had. There wasn't one day that I didn't wish I was back here with you." When he finished he was breathing heavily, his shoulders were heaving and his eyes burned with tears.

"Yeah?" she asked, her chin lifting defiantly. "And all those days you wished you were here..." she said, staring at him while tears fell down her cheeks. "Did you ever stray?" she questioned, her voice thick. "Huh? Dean? Did you ever sleep with any other women? While I was here raising your baby girl and waiting for you to come back, were you ever with anyone?"

"Chloe..." he said, shaking his head, his eyes closing.

"No, don't you 'Chloe' me, you tell me the truth," she told him, moving so she was kneeling beside him. "Tell me, Dean. Did you love other women? Were you in their beds? Did you escape after they fell asleep or did you just wait for morning and then drive back to your motel?" she asked, scathingly, her voice raising.

"Chloe--"

"Tell me," she screamed in his face, her hands reaching out to grab his shirt and push him back while at the same time pulling him closer. "You did, didn't you. How many?" she asked, searching his eyes. "Or have you lost count?" she spat.

He reached out to her, trying to ignore the tears that had slipped down his cheeks. "Please," he breathed, trying to grab her shoulders to steady her from her crying.

"No," she said, pulling back from him. "No, no, no, let me go," she sobbed, her body crumpling and rearing away from him. "Don't touch me!"

"You don't understand," he told her, his voice hoarse as he continued to try and pull her closer. "God it hurt. It hurt not to have you. To know that you were here and I'd never-- I'd never have you again," he admitted, closing his eyes and getting a hold of her arms, keeping her in place just a foot from him. "I never loved them. I just needed to forget. I need to stop thinking about it. But every time... I kissed them and I saw you... It was always you, I just..."

"Don't tell me that," she told him, wriggling away. "Don't you lie! You slept with them, Dean." She began pushing at his chest, her fingers digging through his shirt and pressing painfully into him. "You cheated! You can't tell me you loved me and be with them. That's not how it works!" she sobbed, shaking her head.

"It was killing me," he shouted, holding her still. "Every night, I just kept thinking of you. I still roll over and try to wrap my arm around you in the middle of the night. I still wake up thinking I'm going to find you talking to Sasha in your stomach while your brushing your hair in nothing but a bathrobe. I still-- I still love you. I never stopped. I just, it was hard. I could barely sleep and I was worried constantly that I had left you to be killed instead of taking it away," he choked out, hoarsely.

Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes closed for a minute before finally facing her sad, hurt face. "I never meant to hurt you, but it was the only thing that stopped the pain for that moment. When it was over I hated myself, but sometimes it just hurt so much..." he trailed off, having no way to explain it to her.

She looked away from him, her jaw stiffening and her posture becoming rigid in his hands. She glanced back at him. "She's right, you look horrible," she noted, her voice still shaky, but obviously telling him that their discussion was over for now.

Letting his hands fall, he scratched the back of his head, shrugging. "I haven't been sleeping very well lately."

Nodding, Chloe sighed, looking away. "Why don't you..." Clearing her throat, she rose from the bed. "Get some rest, I'm going to have dinner with Sasha... and I guess your brother."

Dean glanced at the bed, unsure. "I could stay on the couch," he offered, standing up.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Sasha will want to spend time with you if she sees you and you'll never get any sleep. I want to talk your brother anyway, and you... you really need to rest Dean. You look like you've been run over a few times."

"Love that honest streak of yours," he said with a soft laugh.

She nodded shortly, crossing the room to the door.

"Chloe," he called hesitantly. She stopped and he turned slightly to stare at her back. "I don't know how I'm gonna make this up to you, but I will. I'm not... I'm not going anywhere..."

She waited a moment longer before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Sighing, he shook his head, feeling as if he was the worst person alive. Rubbing his tired face, he exhaled heavily. Shrugging his coat off, he tossed it to the floor and tugged his shirt up and over his head. He toed his socks off while he worked his way out of his jeans. Climbing into his bed, he was immediately hit with a barrage of memories from the past, not all of them G-rated. He melted into the snug feeling of the mattress, pulling the blanket up to cover the majority of his body. Moving on to his stomach, he spread his arm out over her side of the bed, his hand fisting in the sheets, wishing he could be holding her then.

It was going to be a long road to forgiveness, but he didn't have anything else he wanted to do. He needed to explain himself, to have her understand why he did it. He needed her and Sasha. He couldn't run from it anymore, and he supposed he really didn't want to. Laying there, being there, knowing who was down stairs, there was only one thing to describe it. Welcome home, Dean.

* * *

**A/N** _Sorry for the late update! Hope you enjoyed this! I'll write more soon! Thank you for reading, please leave a review. I'd really like to know what you think! Thanks!_

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	7. Hope

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _tvbatina, Tessa, Ala, irishgirl9, Ghostwriter, Joise, dayamiracle, L'insomnie des etoiles, CSLUVSCK, WelshChicky, Caitiri, ChevyGurl'67, clena, Stephie, **hottietom (Amanda), IY-ROX** _and _especially** galloping-goose.**_

_**The Ring**_

-**7**-

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, staring across at the little girl holding her teddy bear up to cover most of her face. Her eyes stared at him curiously, before she finally let the teddy fall to her side and stood up confidently. "I'm Sasha," she told him, nodding assuredly. "I'm free," she told him, holding up her middle three fingers. "How many are you?" she wondered, tipping her head.

"Well, I'm _twenty_-three," he said, not sure how to show her in fingers. "That's two of these," he said, holding up both hands, "and this many," he said, holding up his own three middle fingers and smiling.

She stared at him in confusion for a minute before she finally nodded with acceptance. "You an' daddy tw'ose?" she wondered, leaning forward on the table and lifting one of her legs back as she peered around at the food. She was standing precariously and could fall at any moment but even as she slipped some and then caught her balance, she showed no fear at all.

Sam thought over her question for a minute. He and Dean hadn't always been close and he had only recently found out something very vital in Dean's life. However, overall he felt they were pretty damn close for brothers. He didn't know many siblings that would willingly spend so much time together, locked up in a stuffy car, driving all over the States and hunting things for absolutely no recognition except their own at the end of the day. "Yeah, your dad and I are really close," he answered.

She smiled, her cheeks lifting up and her small teeth staring up at him cheerily. "Good. Momma say daddy real lonely. He leaved his fwends here," she told him, reaching out and grabbing a piece of garlic bread. "My uncle Clark, he daddy's best fwend," she told him, nodding excitedly.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, unable to hide the grin that broke out on his face. "What else do you know about your dad?" he wondered.

She sat down in her chair, curling her leg up and letting the other dangle down over the edge. She shook her head, frowning, "Momma say I can't tell people stuff 'bout daddy, 'cause his job is seekwet," she told him, sighing. She nibbled at the bread, picking it off and chewing on it without closing her mouth. "He fights bad guys," she told him, finally. "Like a superhero!" she brightened, her brows lifting and her eyes sparkling. "Do you fight them too?" she queried.

Sam nodded, letting out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I work with your dad, the superhero," he replied.

He could hear faint yelling in the background and hoped Sasha didn't question what was happening. He didn't hear any crashing or the sound of shattering glass though, so took it as a good sign. Maybe Dean would be able to explain it all to her before she could hold it against him too much. Sam had a lot of doubts that would happen, given that his brother had royally messed up. He kept that to himself though, in hopes that Dean would somehow save his relationship with Chloe, and have a future with his daughter.

"Are you hungry, do you want me to make you up a bowl of this dinner your mom made?" he asked, rising from his chair and looking at her curiously. He only now realized he was using an especially soft tone with her and trying his best not to stand to his full height, as he was pretty sure he looked like a rather overwhelming figure. Dean was only a couple inches shorter than him, but he likely bent down too.

Sasha nodded at him, chewing languidly on her bread and picking up a fork with her free hand. "I wike food," she told him, nodding happily. "Momma says I eat wots. She say I have daddy's apapatite," she said, mispronouncing 'appetite.'

Sam grinned, chortling quietly as he picked up a fork and knife so he could cut up Sasha's spaghetti for her to better swallow. He moved it closer to her, watching as she licked her lips and put down her garlic bread to turn her attention to the main course. Moving back to his place at the table, he couldn't help but notice the small similarities in Sasha from her father. He found himself throughly distracted with a foolish grin pasted on his face.

Turning his face down, he dug his fork into the large bowl of pasta, twirling it around and lifting it to his mouth. When he looked back up, Sasha had red sauce surrounding her mouth and marring the end of her noise. She didn't seem to mind though as she grinned happily and continue to chew with relish. He felt a rumble of laughter from his chest, noticing that she really did have her father's appetite.

Soon after, Chloe walked back into the kitchen. Sam noticed that her eyes were red rimmed and her face was pale, but other than that she seemed to have herself under control. She slid into the chair at the side of the table and poured herself a glass of water from the ice cold jug in front of her. Sasha stared at her a moment before turning her body to stare at the doorway to the kitchen, waiting for Dean, Sam was sure.

Not sure what to say, Sam went with an ineloquent, "Hey."

Chloe looked up at him, a frown appearing for a moment but then melting away. "Sasha, sweetie turn around and eat your dinner," she told her daughter.

"Where daddy go?" she asked, her eyes wide and worried. "Momma, he sick," she told him, suddenly struggling in her seat to get out.

"He's fine, Sash, he's just lying down. He was really tired," Chloe told her, reaching out to steady the little girl and move her back into her seat. "Now eat your dinner, you can talk to him later."

Sam let out a thankful sigh, to which Chloe turned quickly at. "What? You didn't think I did something to him, did you?" she asked, half amused, half annoyed.

He smiled, softly laughing at the accusation. "No, he just hasn't been sleeping much. I was getting a little worried. He hasn't been looking so great lately."

Chloe nodded absently, before turning to her dinner and sticking her fork in. They ate in silence, aside from the rare unusual comment by Sasha about random things. Sam found it kind of refreshing to be sitting in a real kitchen, eating a home cooked meal. It made him think of what he could have had with Jess though and he felt a minor ache in his chest. He offered to do the dishes when everybody was done eating and though she protested, Chloe finally gave in when she realized just how persistent he could be.

Sasha tugged on the side of Chloe's pants, waiting for her mom's attention before she asked what she wanted to. When her mother finally looked down at her, she smiled, "Daddy wead me boot before bed?" she asked hopefully.

"Not tonight, sweetie, maybe tomorrow, when he's not so tired, okay?" Chloe offered, kneeling down beside her and rubbing her knuckles over her daughter's cheek.

Sighing, Sasha nodded before turning to her uncle. "You wead me boot?" she questioned, with less enthusiasm but still a hopeful spark.

Sam was holding a dripping dish in his hand while moving a cloth around against the crusted on food. "Yeah, sure, these can wait," he said, glancing up at Chloe for permission.

She looked hesitant but ended up nodding and explaining which room was Sasha's, even though the little girl was tugging on him and saying she'd show him. He was dragged up the stairs, listening to her talk about all the books she had in her room. Not all of her sentences made sense, but he didn't mind. Finally, they reached her room, where he found it hard to walk. Toys and clothes littered the floor but she seemed to find the perfect route over to her bed, not tripping once.

She held a book up to him and then pointed to the side of her bed, telling him where to sit. She had a very tiny bed and he was a little worried he might break it with his weight, so he sat down beside it and cracked open the small book she handed him. He read the title, smiling to himself as it brought back memories of his childhood. His brother used to read him the exact same book when he was a little boy. He flipped through the pages, thinking over the storyline with a smile. Moving back to the front to read for her, he noticed some dark writing at the front and furrowed his brow. On the back of the cardboard cover was black scrawl saying, "_To Dean. Merry Christmas, soldier. Love dad_."

Sam stared down at it before turning to Sasha, "Where'd you get this book?" he asked.

Sitting up, she leaned over his shoulder. "Daddy send it me for my birfday," she told him, nodding. "It's my favo'ite!"

Sam smiled, nodding slowly, "Mine too," he told her, flipping to the front page, "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Diego and he had a younger brother called, Philip. Together, these little boys would travel all over the world, saving other kids who found themselves in trouble. Diego took care of Philip since he was a little baby..."

A half hour later, after reading the book to her three times, Sam stood up and tucked her in as she snored lightly with her thumb stuck firmly in her mouth. Carefully walking out of her room, tripping twice on a few scattered toys, he turned off the light, watching as the sun slowly set in the far distance. Closing the door, he turned and made his way back downstairs.

Walking into the kitchen, Sam found Chloe finishing up the last of the dishes and walked over to give her a hand. She turned to him, slightly surprised by his presence before she returned her attention to her task. Sam wasn't sure what to say or how to start a conversation. He wondered if she was angry with him for not telling her that her husband was not only in Smallville, but in fact, was standing in her backyard, talking to the daughter he'd never met.

"So," he started, sounding nervous.

Shaking her head, she chuckled. "Look, it's not your fault Dean likes to play the hero, so I don't blame you. I would've appreciated a little forewarning that he was here, but he's your brother and I get it," she told him, shrugging.

"See, I didn't really know he was going to show up like that. He said he was going to wait in the car and then he just sort of..." He shrugged, shaking his head and trying to smile. "I didn't even know anything about you or Sasha until three days ago."

"Oh?" Chloe asked, her eyes blinking rapidly and her brows lifting with question. "What brought the subject up?" she asked, sounding slightly bitter as she placed a plate on the stack in the cupboard.

"We were on a hunt," he began, drying the mug in his hands, "And after it was all done we were on our way back for the Motel when he suddenly realized his ring was missing."

"He lost his ring?" she asked, sounding slightly concerned though she tried to hide it.

Sam shook his head, smiling briefly, "No, he made me drive all the way back and then he spent twelve hours in the bush searching for it," he told her, laughing to himself. "I bugged him into telling me why it was so important, which is when he admitted that he had only taken it off once since you gave it to him," he told her, shaking his head slowly. "So then I asked who you were and he said, "My wife," as if it were the most natural thing ever. He was sleeping not five seconds after and so I had to wait until we got back to the Motel for him to tell me anything." Sighing, Sam picked up another cup after putting the last one away. "It took me awhile to get him to talk about it all, but when he did... He just looked so..." Frowning, Sam shook his head, "I don't know, but after that I realized why he was looking so worse for wear lately and I... kind of made him come here," he told her, wincing slightly.

"Kind of?" she asked, cocking her brow and turning her head to one side with question.

"Well I drove here while he was sleeping, told him there was a job but didn't give him the destination. He sort of woke up while I was getting coffee at this place in town. After talking to a couple he knew, he told me to get in the car or he'd leave me behind and then he tried to leave town," he explained, letting out a heavy sigh.

"What stopped him from leaving?" she wondered, staring up at him interestedly.

"You," he replied, "You and Sasha, really. I think he wanted to come back, he was just scared."

"Dean scared, that's not something you hear of often," she replied, nodding.

Sam snorted, nodding agreeably. "So you and Dean talked about why he left?" he asked, cautiously, turning to look at her briefly to gauge her reaction.

She stilled in her movements but then continued drying the last bowl and turned toward him, leaning her hip against the counter. "Yeah, I heard about your girlfriend too, I'm sorry Sam," she told him.

He was momentarily sidetracked as she had turned the conversation quite easily onto him, rather than her. "Oh yeah, yeah thanks. I don't really like to uh, talk about that," he said, uncomfortably.

Chloe nodded, "Yeah, I don't usually like discussing anything that has to do with the husband that disappeared when I was eight months pregnant either," she told him, her voice ringing with annoyance.

"Listen, I'm sorry Chloe, I'm not trying to get into your and Dean's business. But, he's my brother, and he's done some stupid things. Like this, for example. Big stupid mistake. But, he had good reason. I mean, this thing, this demon that got my mom and Jess, if he really thought it was going to come after you, then I can understand why he'd want to take it away," Sam told her, trying not to sound pushy, but unable to hold his opinion back.

Chloe stared at him a long while, her eyes veiled. "Maybe I can forgive him for leaving, because he really did have our best interests at heart. Now I'm not saying I do, because it's going to take time for me to accept what he did. But there are some things that can't just be explained away, Sam. Like the fact that my husband was unfaithful during the time he was away. Can you give me a logical reason for that? One that I can accept and not think of men as being complete pigs?" she asked, her arms crossing as she stared at him expectantly.

"Okay, no, I can't, but I'm sure he has some kind of reason for that," Sam offered, his voice raising with hope.

Sighing, Chloe shook her head. "Yeah, Dean always has a reason for everything he does. Every bad thing he's ever done, he can explain away to clear his conscience. But you know what? I don't want his excuses. I wanted my husband. I wanted the man that I married, that promised me forever, that vowed he would never love anybody else," she told him, her voice shaking.

"I don't think he ever did," Sam told her, now sounding much more convinced of his words. "Look, I was with Dean for this last year and I've seen him with other women," he admitted, holding up his hands to stop her from leaving when she started shaking her head and attempting to walk away. "No, no, just hold on. Now, I've seen him hit on random women, I've seen him pick up numbers or walk away with them, but never once has he spent any more than a night with them. Not once did he remember their names or talk about them again in anything but a 'Remember that waitress, what a mistake?' kind of way."

It didn't look as if his words were making her feel any better and he knew he was making his brother sound like a notorious player, but he wasn't going to lie. "But when he was talking about you though, about your wedding and when he showed me a picture he has of you, he was completely different. I mean, for the first time in my entire life, I could actually see Dean settling down, and he really looked ready. He looked like he wanted this life, like he _needed_ it and you were the only one he wanted it with. Now I don't know what that means to you, but from how well I know my brother, that's huge," he told her, his brows lifting with emphasis.

Chloe looked away, her teeth worrying her lip as she tapped her foot. "Sam, I know you're trying to be a good brother and I realize that you're really worried about Dean, but... But I really don't want to talk about this anymore," she told him, shaking her head. Waving her hands, she turned to him, tears filling her eyes. "Listen, I'm going to give a few friends a call. The were really close to Dean when he lived here and I'm sure they'd like to meet you," she offered, turning away and leaving the kitchen.

Sighing, Sam nodded, knowing that there was nothing else he could say to change her mind. It was up to Dean now, he couldn't give her all the answers she needed. While he really wanted his brother to get his life on track, there was only so much that he knew about the situation. He didn't really know Chloe or much about the life his brother led while he settled down in Smallville. He wanted to know though, he wanted to learn more about the Dean Winchester that Chloe and their friends knew.

Making his way into the living room, Sam plopped himself down on one of the cushy couches. Leaning his head on his hand, he looked around the spacious area, taking in how much it appeared Dean was still a part of everything. There were pictures sitting up on mantels of him and Chloe, a coat that looked a lot like his usual leather one hung off the side of a chair, and a pair of boots, looking worse for the wear, sat lopsided against the wall near the office. Sam wondered if Chloe had left certain articles lying around to remember him, in hopes that when he came back, things would just resume from where they ended.

He noticed one of the framed photos by the couch was of his brother sitting in front of a mic, a guitar propped in his arms and a wide smirk on his face. The lighting was dark, as if he were about to start singing in a lounge. Placing it back where it was, Sam turned his attention back around and took in the room once more, finding the clutter and homey feel very relaxing. He sighed, sinking into the couch a little more and crossing his arms over his chest. He could just about fall asleep right then and there, he thought.

The door opened abruptly and a loud booming noise called out Chloe's name. Sam was jarred from his comfort and immediately found himself on his feet and ready to fight. He forced himself to calm down and then realized he was standing face to face with the boy he had seen his brother talking to in the cafe, and the same who was in all the pictures with him. "Clark, right?" Sam asked, lifting his brow speculatively.

The man nodded, before breaking out in a smile. "You must be Sam, yeah your brother told me a lot about you," he said, holding his hand out for Sam to shake.

Almost immediately Sam got the feeling that Clark was just a friendly, comfortable kind of guy. He found it rather odd that his brother was friends with someone who seemed so normal, but shook it off and forced himself not to question every little thing. He shook Clark's hand and then explained that Dean was upstairs sleeping.

"That's all right, he probably needs it. He didn't look so good this morning," he replied, shrugging.

"Who didn't?" came an inquisitive voice as a woman who looked about ready to give birth any second approached them. She turned to look at him, smiling warmly, "Sam, right? Dean's brother," she said, holding a hand out for him.

Shaking it, he smiled. "Unless the adoption agency gets back to me with an answer, I'm pretty sure we're related, yeah," he replied, nodding.

Laughing, the woman patted his arm, "I like you. I'm Lois," she introduced herself. "I've known your brother for awhile, he's a good guy."

"Yeah, I heard he's a superhero," Sam said, grinning.

Lois smiled, nodding, "Yeah, that's Sasha for you. She idolizes her dad."

"For good reason," Clark told her, before turning to Chloe as she walked in.

"Oh you embellish every story you have about him," Lois reminded, rolling her eyes.

"I do not," he denied, a small smirk on his mouth. "He really did beat up six monsters at once, with one arm tied behind his back and a blindfold on."

Snorting, Lois shook her head at him. "Chloe, will you help me to the fridge. I have a real hankering for a radish and honey sandwich. I'm not sure I can take anymore of my husband's idol worship of Dean," she said, waddling away with a hand on her back.

Clark shrugged, turning to Sam with a boyish grin. "So, how long are you guys in town?" he wondered.

"Hopefully Dean won't be leaving," Sam told him, backing up into the living room and making his way over to the couch.

"Agreed," Clark said, sitting down in a large recliner and leaning back comfortably. "You're gonna have quite a time convincing him though."

Sighing, Sam nodded. "He has it in his head that if he leaves, everything will be fine."

"Except _he_ won't," Clark said, shaking his head. "And I don't think Sasha would take it too well if he left now. He did meet her, right?" he asked, sounding rather excited.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, unable to hide his grin. "He said he was going to wait in the car but when I turned around, he was in the backyard talking to her."

"How'd Chloe take it?" he wondered, wincing as his expression turned to one of worry.

"Well, she didn't scream while Sasha was there. She just sort of left the room and he chased after her. After that, I don't know. I heard yelling and when she came back down, she was alone. She said he was sleeping, which is good, right," he said, looking unsure.

"Yeah, sure, I think it's good. I mean, if Chloe thought more of his health than their problem, then obviously some part of her is happy he's back." He sighed, looking around, "If you haven't noticed, some of the things in this place aren't the kind of things a single mom would keep around."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, his eyes venturing over to the boots, "I was just wondering about those."

"After he left, Chloe was in serious denial," Clark told him, "She didn't want to change anything and she wouldn't listen to anybody who told her that maybe he wasn't coming back. For the first year, she kept telling us that he was probably away on some big secret hunt and that he'd be back anytime. But then she just sort of stopped talking about him. She leaves the room if he comes up or she just changes the subject. The only person she seems comfortable talking about him to is Sasha, and even then the conversations are usually pretty short."

"How often does he call you?" Sam wondered, crossing his arms loosely over his chest.

"About once a week, unless he was feeling particularly homesick," Clark told him, shrugging. "He told me all about his 'job' and explained why he left. He wanted me to keep an eye on Chloe and after awhile, it just became normal for me to tell him exactly what was going on with her. I never told her he called. I never told anyone, but Lois figured it out pretty quick. I wanted to tell Chloe that he was okay or that he was worried about her and Sasha, but Dean wanted it kept a secret. I know he was worried about the demon, but it just seemed as if it was beating them all up for nothing."

Sam nodded slowly, taking in the information and filing it away in his mind. "Have you ever noticed anything weird around here? Flickering lights, odd occurrence, maybe even strangers who seemed a little weird?"

"This is Smallville," he reminded, snorting, "Most of the people around here are a little weird. I'm sure you know all about the meteor freaks." Sam nodded. "Yeah, well it makes it a little hard to pick out the supernatural from the kryptonite induced weirdos."

Sam bobbed his head in understanding, frowning. "Maybe it left," he offered, his eyes thinning with thought. "After Dean did, maybe it just gave up."

"Maybe," Clark said, shrugging. "Is that why you guys are back? To find out what it was and destroy it?" he wondered.

Sam shrugged while nodding, "Kind of. Dean says if its here then he wants to get rid of it. At first, he didn't want to let Chloe or Sasha know he was here, but I guess his daughter got the best of him, because he gave in pretty quick. I know he's been really messed up lately, everything has been taking a toll on him. I think it's time for him to get back to this," Sam explained, letting out a heavy breath.

Clark sighed, nodding, "Yeah, I know he hasn't been doing well lately. He was pretty messed up when he found out about Sebastian--"

"Who?" Sam asked, his brow furrowing.

"Oh, he's the guy that's been sort of interested in Chloe recently. I don't know if they're dating or not but he comes by pretty regularly," he told him, looking disgruntled.

"You and my brother are really close, huh?" he asked, he couldn't help the way his brows came together. It was an odd thought, knowing his brother had somebody else he confided to. After all his talk about how Dean needed to get out and get friends, he suddenly realized he kind of liked knowing he was the only person Dean was close to.

"Yeah, Dean's like a brother," Clark told him, nodding. "He's helped me out in a lot of situations. I don't mean to sound like a girl, but we confide in each other about a lot of things. His hunts, my... well, powers, family, supernatural phenomena."

Sam wanted to ask him about his powers but thought better of it. Clark seemed a little uncomfortable by the subject, so he let it drop and decided he'd ask Dean about it later. "No, that's good. I'm glad he has friends, I was starting to think he was a serious recluse."

Clark laughed, nodding, "Yeah, he wasn't exactly open to the idea of friendship at first. But I wore him down. When he started dating Chloe, he sort of had to hang out with the rest of us. After awhile, he just became part of our little group, I guess."

"Who else is in this group?" Sam wondered, listening for any other voices.

"Lana," Clark told him, and as if she heard him calling, a women with dark hair came walking through the front door. She waved over at Clark and then stared curiously at Sam.

"Hi," he waved, smiling lightly, "I'm Sam, Dean's brother."

She nodded, reaching out to shake his hand. "Yeah, I saw you this morning," she told him, her brow furrowing. "I thought that was Dean, but I wasn't sure." She looked around, frowning, "Is he here, or...?"

"He's lying down," Sam explained.

"Chloe and Lois are in the kitchen," Clark told her, motioning backward and then returning his attention to Sam. Lana walked off, looking for the other girls. "There's also Lali, but she's out of town until tomorrow," he told him, finishing up explaining who else was in their small group.

"Four girls and two guys," Sam noted, "Interesting."

"Yeah, the only time that was confusing was when Lali had a small crush on Dean. Of course, he was already dating Chloe at the time, so there was no reason to think much on it. Lana was dating someone during the time Dean was in town, but her and him weren't close to begin with. They were friends, but she's probably the person who knows the least about Dean."

"Lali and him are close?" Sam asked, his voice rather incredulous. He couldn't help it, his brother didn't seem the type to confide in a woman about many things, except maybe Chloe.

"Oh yeah, after she got over her initial crush, her and Dean became like brother and sister," Clark told him, nodding with a smile. "I think he still calls her too. She's your age I think. He used to say that she reminded him of you, and that's why he had so much fun bugging her."

Sam laughed, lifting his brow quickly as he acknowledged that his brother really did enjoy bothering him just for his own amusement. Before Sam could ask any more questions, Lois, Chloe, and Lana came into the living room, all talking at the same time.

"Oh, oh, let's all exchange stories about Dean," Lois said, holding her hand up and grinning wildly. "Come on, it'll be fun! I'll start," she told them, leaning back in the recliner she had settled in and tipping her head.

"Okay, there was that time, a couple weeks after Chloe introduced us. I was tailing this kid who works at the Planet, because he somehow had his stories written before they even happened," she explained, smiling. "I found myself hiding behind a rank garbage can, scoping out the scene of this gangly kid standing in the middle of a parking lot wearing, of all things, the cliched trenchcoat and a fishing hat," she said, with a warm laugh.

"So while I'm holding my breath and fanning the flies away, I suddenly hear this noise, and the next thing I know, Dean is kneeling right beside me, smirking. Instead of explaining what he's doing or why he's there, he says," she stared at them, "Hey," she told them, shrugging and putting on an indifferent expression before she broke out into a grin.

"Not two seconds later a woman appears out of thin air, wearing a slinky black dress and hovering a foot above the ground, talking to the guy I'm tailing. Of course, Dean doesn't wait for me to come up with a plan, but instead pulls out a bunch of supplies from his jacket and just sneaks up on them," she said, throwing her arms up into the air and shaking her head.

The story continued on for awhile and then Clark took a turn. Sam couldn't help but fall into a comfortable state listening to them all talk about how they had inadvertently been sucked into Dean's many hunts around town. Hours later, he was filled to the brim with stories about his brother causing trouble and then fixing his mistake to save the town. He had even thrown in a few of his own, realizing that sharing them with these people wasn't as weird or uncomfortable as it felt whenever he told anybody else who was normal. He suddenly wondered how it would be if he too decided not to travel the globe, but to instead settle down in Smallville. It wasn't as if it was some quiet, peaceful town, there was lots happening.

After everybody had gone home, Sam was left sitting in the living room with Chloe. He scratched the back of his neck, running his hands through his hair absently. "Well, look, I've got the keys to the Impala and we have a Hotel rented out in town, so I'm just going to head in. When, uh, when he gets up, tell him to call me on my cell," he said.

Chloe nodded slowly before glancing at the clock. "You can stay if you want. The couch is free and I'm sure Sasha would love to hang out with you when she gets up," she offered, motioning to the sofa. "It might make it a little less weird tomorrow too," she admitted, running her palms against her sides. "I haven't spent any time with Dean in a long while and I'm just... a little worried about what it might be like," she told him, her smile falling away and being replaced with a hesitant frown.

Sam nodded, sighing, "I know. But, uh, I think it'd probably be better if maybe you guys just spent some time as a family," he said, hoping his words weren't coming out too forward. "I'm not trying to intrude and force you guys to make up, but I bet he'd really like it if when he woke up, I wasn't here," he said, smiling lightly. "This is probably something he's been dreaming of for years, and to be honest I don't want to mess that up for him." He shook his head, wincing, "I'm sorry, I know I'm putting you in a really awkward position."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "I get it, really," she assured, nodding. "It's okay, you can go. Drive safely," she told him, backing up so he could leave.

Sam nodded, thanking her for the great dinner as he backed out the door. She was just about to close it when he turned back. "Uh, Chloe, I just wanted to thank you for tonight." She stared at him questioningly. "I assumed Dean was happy here with you, but I had no idea just how happy he really was. I learned a lot about him, actually. His friends are really great and you and Sasha... He's really lucky and I... I guess I hope that you guys can work this out because after everything, he deserves to be happy."

Chloe nodded at him, her eyes falling for a minute. He turned to leave but her soft voice reached him, making him turn back. "Thank you for bringing him home," she whispered, her teary eyes raising to meet his. "I waited for him every day and he never came. I just... I spent a lot of time worrying about him and..." She blinked rapidly, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see him again, so thank you Sam. Thank you for bringing my husband back to me."

He stared at her a moment, not sure how to respond.

Nodding, she said goodbye and closed the door.

Sam shook his head, turning and making his way over to the Impala waiting across the street, parked behind a tree. He turned back halfway to the car, looking up at the house and watching as the lights turned out and one upstairs came on. He really hoped his brother didn't mess things up, because as far as Sam was concerned, his brother somehow had the perfect, almost normal, life. Sighing, he half smiled. Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

* * *

**A/N **_Sorry for the late update, I'll try to do it more regularly. Please leave a review, I'd love to know what you think about this story._

_Much Love,  
**-Amanda**_

**P.S.**_ For a Chloe/Dean video made by a wonderful person named Christine, go to my profile page and get the link to see it. It's simply amazing!_


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